Rarity Belle, a pale white unicorn who bore a punctually curled purple mane, was currently very stressed. Several sewing and fabric-related implements floated around her like an orbit. She gazed upon an incomplete outfit she had been fashioning with some hesitancy, and she needed to impress this next buyer of hers. He had been a particularly tricky customer as of late, immensely hard to please and with a great amount of both ego and perfectionism to hoof, and customers like him rarely found what they were looking for. Rarity had taken it as sort of a personal challenge to slam him with an outfit so fashionable and demure that he just couldn’t say no, and as such, she had spent hours trying as hard as she possibly could to nail the new ensemble that she had been making for him. There were downsides to being as compassionate and as driven as she was, meaning Rarity began to second-guess herself and her fashion-designing abilities as she had many, many times before. There were various intricate issues only a pony with her expertise could notice or care about, and they plagued her mental state to the degree that she was almost feverish. The anxiety built up over her difficult task caused her to pace around errantly in her boutique, the aptly named ‘Carousel Boutique’, and she was spontaneously coming up with and simultaneously abandoning various ideas to ensure perfection and quality.
“No, it needs to have more sequins,” she firmly decided. Then she stopped, thought for a moment, and immediately doubted that assertation. “Oh! What am I saying?! The sleeves need to be straighter! Or… do the ruffles need to be more ruffled? Euuh… hrmm… oh, I just don’t know!”
As much thought as Rarity gave to the outfit, she could not discern just how to make it absolutely perfect, and these feelings gave way to anguished and dramatized wails of grief. Eventually, she paced no more around her shop, and she swayed like a sailor on deck who had gotten a bit tipsy. She settled a hoof upon her brow dramatically as if she were the love interest in a soap opera, and gave a few well-acted groans.
“Oh, this puzzling couture is never going to pass his judgment!” she cried hopelessly. The unseen ship-like force gave way underneath her fetlocks, and she collapsed on the floor in a sobbing heap. After a few moments of unhappy blubbering, Rarity quieted down, and her sniffling settled. Then, after what felt like another 10 seconds of winding it down, she stumbled to her hooves and breathed in and out. After another 15, she had recollected herself with miraculous poise.
“Keep it together, Rarity.” she spurred. “You just need to find the right combination of garments, to put your heart and soul into it, and this outfit will surely come together!”
She decided instead to simply have a do-over with the design. She trotted over to the incomplete outfit that sat on a mannequin, but before she could reach it, a knock sounded upon her front door. This newly introduced external importance diverted her attention towards it and prompted her to ostensibly finish a half-dozen multitude of tasks she was performing.
“Coming!”
The pronounced growth from Rarity’s forehead glowed and enveloped the top latch with a magical aura. Then the latch moved and thrust the window half around the door threshold with an almost dramatic flourish. There Rarity found a stallion peering into the doorway from about a half-pace away, wearing a dated-looking uniform, and carrying a brown saddlebag. He had a tan brown coat and a jade-green mane topped with one of those military ‘brony’ helmets or whatever they were called, and he greeted her with a firm if pleasant look. The soldier raised a salute to Rarity, and she looked back to him, mystified.
“Greetings, miss.” the soldier addressed, formal and prompt.
Rarity was a bit cautious, and she slowly shifted towards the soldier, wary of his intentions. What business did a soldier have at her boutique? He didn’t look to be in the market for another outfit, either. In fact, aren’t their uniforms standard-issue?
“Can I help you, sir?”
The soldier nodded stiffly.
“I’ve a Telegram from Canterlot for you, top priority message.”
He turned to the brown saddlebag he wore and opened the flap, rummaging through it with his muzzle.
“Won’t be but a moment.”
After a moment he extracted a roll of paper and held it out, clenched between his jaws, to Rarity. He raised a hoof and exchanged the paper from mouth to hoof, then cleared his throat as if to read it. Rarity interrupted.
“Oh, you don’t have to read it,” she said kindly. “A good friend of mine taught me Horse Code. Just hold it for me, if you please.”
The soldier sighed, returned the end of the paper to his mouth, and set his hoof down. Rarity put on her reading glasses and glanced at the message (the few objects she had been levitating were tossed aside carelessly). Just as Rarity mentioned, the message consisted of no words, but a series of dots and dashes. This was a coded message of sorts, transmitted through wires that much Rarity knew for certain, but she seemed to understand what was written, and after a brief pause, her eyes widened. A harrowing gasp emanated from her lips quite forcefully.
“Uniform designs for the Equestrian military?!” she cried aloud, recoiling in horror.
Again the floor under Rarity’s hooves seemed to sway, and she was just about to ‘faint’ onto the threshold of the doorway when the soldierly pony interrupted her display with a loud cough. Rarity’s eyes, which had been aimed lazily skyward as if to shut, snapped back to the soldier mid-sway.
“Excuse me, miss,” he asked dryly, with an eyebrow raise. “But did you read the… entire message?”
Rarity halted her swaying and studied the message with greater attention to detail, almost with a huff of sorts. What followed was a long sigh, complete with a flourishing motion of the hooves.
“Oh, thank goodness,” said Rarity, with vivid relief. “They just want me to design uniforms, not to produce them,”
Rarity then struck an ostentatious pose in the doorway, clearly directed at the soldier. He blinked vacantly.
“Well, my good stallion,” she said triumphantly, “please tell the Princess that I shall happily assist her in designing uniforms for the benefit of our brave equestrian soldiers and the good of this great nation of ours!”
She paused, eyes gleaming and with a wide smile, to get a look at the soldier as she awaited his verdict on her garish display of confidence. The soldier stared at her blankly. Somepony coughed throatily, whoever it was, it couldn’t be determined.
“Yyyokay.”
He then cautiously leaned over and eased the message onto the door threshold. He let out a few nervous chuckles, grinning unconvincingly, and then galloped down the road without looking back. Rarity raised an eyebrow, following up with a pleasant albeit guilty chuckle. She closed the latch firmly and went to thinking about her new task. The difficult customer’s ordered couture would have to wait for now.
“Well, no wonder the Ministry of Defense came to me,” she mused aloud to nopony in particular, “Those soldiers could do with a lot more in the presentation department.”
Rarity gazed out the window, deep in thought. It was a pleasant day outside.
“Hrm… a functional military uniform,” she said wonderingly. “goodness, I don’t think I’ve done one of those yet.”
A smile crept up upon her face. Forget dresses and suits, a military uniform was a real challenge! For once, Rarity felt eager, and she trotted in place out of how nervous she was beginning to feel.
“Oh, I’m so excited!” she clamored. “This will be wonderful! Nothing I can’t handle, of course, but I relish the thought! Let’s see about those specifications they want.”
She released her pent-up energy by practically galloping towards the message the soldier had left inside. She levitated upward so that she could get a better glimpse, and her eyes ran over it. After another pause, she unleashed a dramatic gasp equal parts flamboyant and audacious, and her smile slipped away.
“Oh dear!” she exclaimed, as her eyes scrawled over the paper. “They certainly want a lot of function. Saddlebags, patches, and pockets, oh my! This may be more difficult than I thought.”
Sure, Rarity had sewn on pockets to suits before and had even stitched on merit badges when she was younger, rather than pin them, but the patches and pockets being asked of her were both extensive and many. The pockets they wanted were big enough to fit an entire bag of bits and then some, and the patches went from the lapel to the shoulders to the sleeves, and so on. Rarity knew at once she’d need a frame of reference of some sort if she wanted to ensure she’d get the job done right. Her mind turned and toiled, and after a few minutes of gear-turning silence, the solution suddenly came to her in a burst of inspiration.
“Eureka!” she cried aptly, “I’ve got the most perfect idea ever!”
She immediately galloped over and threw open a door in the corner, leading into what looked like a walk-in closet. Inside, covered in a layer of dust, hung the replica uniforms she had made to teach Rainbow Dash about the Wonderbolts so long ago.
That was great fun! Rarity reminded herself, And of course, it was educational as well.
The uniforms were a little moth-chewed, but otherwise, they were the best choice. Not like she’d actually be wearing the outfits anyway, she only needed them as a base. And where else was she to find uniform references, anyway? As she had pointed out, she’d never made a uniform from scratch before, and this meant she had no designs or canvases upon which to reference. Even if she tried to make or find her own, the trip to Canterlot or some other place alone would take an hour, and just trying to find one proper would be an adventure in and of itself. No, this was the better, the faster option, and saved her time from poring over another of Twilight’s history textbooks like she did last time. That didn’t stop Rarity from being revulsed by their grime.
“Oough, so dusty and dirty!” she exclaimed explicitly, “I must plan a day to clean out this closet.”
Rarity was satisfied, however, for she now had the means to perform her task. She hummed sweetly to herself as she levitated each outfit from the closet, and then followed it up with some mannequins, approximately one for each set of accoutrements. She then proceeded to levitate and affix each outfit to a respective mannequin, and following that up, she obtained a quill, a roll of measuring tape, and a pot of ink from a nearby drawer. Once she had everything she needed she smiled merrily and made her way upstairs, each mannequin floating lazily after her, enraptured in her levitation spell.
“Alright then, Ponies of the military!” she crowed enthusiastically, “Prepare to dazzle as you’ve never dazzled before!”
After some amount of time spent designing, taking physical measurements, and cutting and sewing fabric, Rarity finally considered herself at least a quarter of the way done with her task. She had clocked in nearly 4 hours of seamless cutting, sewing, and organizing, which she had powered through with resilience using her muse as a launchpad. She still had a lengthy task ahead of her to accomplish, but for now, at least, she was happy with what she had so far. As she worked, she relished every moment she spent toiling with prideful jubilation. As she did, she continued to hum a sweet, musical tune. It was like something out of a Disney movie.
“Oh, this is so exciting!” she exclaimed delightedly as she sent another levitating pair of scissors through a roll of grey fabric with a snip, snip, snip. “I haven’t had this much fun in ages! Not since back at the start of my boutique when I was first setting up shop…”
She sighed with joy and might’ve been lost in her reminiscing, but next to fashion her physical needs came first and foremost. Her blissful remembrance was interrupted shortly by her stomach grumbling and howling with hunger, an urge even stronger than her inspiration, and she could feel it in the pits of her stomach.
“Ouugh,” she groaned in an almost sickly manner. “Getting hungry.”
Rarity pushed on and tried to ignore it, but after only a few seconds it was followed by an even greater rumble, a practical earthquake. If made verbal, she could’ve said she felt she could resort to cannibalism by eating a horse, hooves, and all, but she didn’t. There was no way she’d be able to keep working at this rate, as much as she wished she could. She decided, after she could stand it no longer, that she would go out to a restaurant for a late lunch.
Why not? Rarity mused internally, as she set aside her tools and implements for when she returned. It’s a wonderous afternoon, you’re hungry, and you have a great deal of work ahead of you. Go out and take a break!
And so, she resolved to do this. She gathered up some of her outdoorsy things (she seldom left home without a hat or a scarf) and set out for the streets of Ponyville with an air of greeting the day.
Rarity trotted through Ponyville at a leisurely pace, humming to herself along the way as she traveled the cobblestone walkways and humble bridges that stood over winding rivers and pooling streams. The sweet tune she had been singing had followed her on her way, and it was almost picturesque the way everything came together. The beauty was palpable, which was often the norm in this land of Equestria. There was a sort of consistent, lovely charm about it. Rarity continued further along pleasantly as she entered the town proper, but as she did, she heard a clamoring nearby from some distance away. It was somewhat faint but still audible, and her ears perked up and strained to listen closer.
What, pray tell, is that? She asked herself, internally curious. Is there a crowd nearby?
After a moment Rarity decided to investigate the source of this strange noise, and made further into Ponyville. After a dozen more paces or so the clamoring grew louder and was more akin to a bubbling wave of noise than anything resonant or singular. When Rarity rounded the corner of another Ponyville abode, she was frozen in shock. A considerable number of both stallions and mares were milling about in front of a large wooden building that stood prominent in the center of town. Ponies of all kinds hadn’t even bothered to line themselves appropriately, and instead pooled and flowed into the building like a retail store on Black Friday (not that Equestrians would know what Black Friday is). The wooden building itself did not stand out in any way, other than the fact that it was new, and that it was wholly very dull. Rarity stared at the massive herd, which was full of ponies that chattered excitedly to themselves in a wave of delight, and gaped at them. After another second or two, she managed the urge herself on despite her curiosity, but her gaze remained affixed to the burbling crowd.
Such a convention! She thought to herself in amazement. I’d recant I’ve never seen as many ponies in one place! And that building is so tacky and bare… what could have possessed those ponies to line up in front of it?!
Rarity, as she passed by, was able to catch some fragmented conversations from the ponies in the crowd. She gleaned as much as she could, but unfortunately, common courtesy meant she had to keep walking. Stopping and staring at a stranger as they talked was simply not the mannerly thing to do.
“I hope I get to be an officer!” said one excitedly,
“I hope I can be a general!” clamored another,
“Maybe I’ll become a marshal!” added a third.
Most of the Ponies seemed to be completely self-absorbed in… whatever it was they were doing. Rarity could only guess, but from the way it sounded, it was something related to some kind of group. She was too far outside the crowd to even have a chance of somepony explaining what was up, and she resolutely decided she did not like what she was seeing. She didn’t even notice she had picked up speed on her way past, her steady trot improving to a weary canter. There surely had to be a reasonable explanation for all this.
It’s fine, it’s alright, Rarity. She self-assured, in increased panic, Whoever owns that… rustic building must be collecting for some good cause, yes, that’ll be it. ‘General’ and ‘Officer’ must be roles in… whatever organization they want to support. All in good time these ponies shall return to their homes and Ponyville will be serene and peaceful once more! No more of this crowding business.
Rarity’s thoughts were not confident at all, nor were they resolute, but that was the argument she went with. She moved further and further away, eventually breaking her gaze from the crowd until at last, the noise grew faint and dim. Rarity slowed down, and after a few more minutes of casually walking she finally spotted her choice of eatery: A local restaurant she visited on off-and-on occasions, nestled on the corner of the street far and away on the quiet side of town, and open at this very hour. The restaurant looked quaint and well-to-do, but strangely enough, it seemed almost deserted.
“That’s strange.” Rarity inquired aloud, “Isn’t it still lunch hour? There should at least be some ponies finishing their meals by about now.”
Rarity trotted over to one of the lonesome patio tables and seated herself in the desolate scene. She looked about for any signs of life, but saw none save for a small colt sweeping the road with a broom, and gave an uneasy gulp. There were pamphlets all over the place for some odd reason, littering the ground like rubbish as if there had been some sort of oversized ticker-tape parade. Rarity picked one up and glanced over it, but tossed it aside after a few seconds. Whatever it said did not interest her.
Where is everypony? Surely they couldn’t all be standing over at the… no, of course not, Rarity. Don’t be silly!
Rarity looked around determinedly as if preparing to answer somepony who might disagree, but nopony else was around, and she chuckled nervously instead. Rarity threw up the menu and attempted to distract herself by reading it. There were quite many delicious choices in wait, and just in time, a kindly waiterpony trotted outside the building and stood before her. His smile seemed a bit faded, but it was happy all the same.
“What can I get you started on, miss?”
Rarity smiled. Surely this couldn’t go wrong.
“I will… have the no. 17.”
The waiter frowned. He shook his head sadly.
“Sorry, we’re all out of that.”
Rarity blinked.
“Wait, what? What do you mean?”
The waiter tilted his head downward, akin to a foal revealing the fate of the missing oatmeal cookie.
“Well, we’re short on ingredients. We don’t have enough to make a number 17.”
Rarity paused. She had never heard of a restaurant being short of an item before. Oh well, it had to happen to somepony. She brought the menu back up and reselected her choice.
“What about the no. 9?”
But the waiter shook his head again.
“Sorry, not that one, either.”
Rarity’s surprise grew. Her eyes darted back to the menu.
“Then… the no. 24?!”
“Nope.”
“What about the no. 2?!”
“Sorry.”
“The… the no. 18?!” Rarity replied defeatedly, “what about that?”
“Out of that, too.”
Rarity was aghast. Just what was there to order?
“Well,” she asked skeptically, faceplanting the menu onto the table with a hard gesture and a firm gaze. “What does the waiter recommend?”
The waiter looked over the menu nervously.
“Uh… I’d recommend the no. 22 and a water.”
Haystack Fries and water. Typical. That had to be the most simplistic meal Rarity had ever been offered that she felt she had to accept. When she was a filly, she had complained and bemoaned any food that didn’t sparkle or shine and had resulted in many troubled evenings for her parents. Talking to them yourself would get you a funny story about putting sequins in her ketchup, but I digress. Rarity grimaced at the ‘recommendation’ but was too exhausted to protest the choice.
“Fiiine.” she relented, “Just… please try not to salt it too much.”
“Can do, ma’am. Please wait here.”
The waiter disappeared back into the restaurant in a flash, leaving Rarity alone with her thoughts. Why were there so few choices? Why was the menu practically nonexistent in variety? The last time she had come here, there had been plenty of food! Where had it all gone?
The waiter returned with her simplistic meal. Rarity scowled and decided to speak up. There will be no more of this nonsense for her.
“Excuse me,” she asked forcefully. “but just why is most of the menu unavailable, hmm?! Answer me that!”
The waiter recoiled at Rarity’s tone. He was clearly not a stallion of great vitality, and he buckled and shook in response to these fierce words.
“Oh g-gosh, I’m uh… I’m very sorry, m-ma’am…” he stammered embarrassingly, “B-But ever s-since the war p-preparations, we’ve been s-short a l-lot of o-our, em, ingredients. Half of our s-suppliers are sending their food to the M-Ministry of Defense in C-Canterlot, and the rest are already being l-limited by the r-rationing. At this r-rate, I don’t even know how long we’ll b-be able to stay open.”
Rarity opened her mouth to complain further, but then she closed it after she caught a glimpse of the poor sap she was airing her gums out on. He was clearly in the wrong place at the wrong time, practically on the verge of crying, and Rarity felt wholly sorry for him. Her anger subsided with a bang and was replaced with a flood of guilt.
“Oh, well then, I em… oh heavens, pardon me then, for my outburst! Here, please, take this as a token of my apology.”
She gifted him a small jewel which she placed in his hoof tenderly. The waiter glanced towards it, then beamed at Rarity, his sad frown lifting up into a bewildered smile.
“Oh, wow, uh, t-thank you ma’am!”
Rarity felt happy at having cheered up the waiter, who trotted back inside with a much brighter expression, but as soon as he was gone Rarity felt her own warmth and fuzziness slip away. Now she had to eat this plain meal, one that she probably could’ve cooked at home, just to save face.
So much for going out, I guess.
Rarity ate the meal in very ladylike bites and tried hard to remain positive, but at this point in her day, her internal distress was compounding into panic and fear. A feminine burp and a patting of the muzzle with her napkin signified she was finished, and she tipped extra as another apologetic gesture of goodwill towards the kindly if nerve-wracked waiter. She rose from the patio seating, straightened herself, and made her way for home after that, a little appalled at the whole situation that had just unfolded. She raced back and across the town square, which had unfortunately gotten even worse in her absence, and her stress wasn’t the only thing that had compounded. There were not one, but several wooden buildings erected around town now, all of which were plastered with propaganda in the form of posters, pamphlets, and other forms of promotion. The crowd had thinned and many ponies had departed from the center of town, but she noticed many of the stragglers seemed to be filling out forms, or talking about dates and times.
“Says here I’m to report on March 2nd.” one said to his female companion. “Guess we’ll have to make arrangements for when I-”
Rarity hadn’t stuck around to hear the rest, but she did see plenty. Some ponies already had saddlebags slung over them, and a good number were making their way to the train station. She could only help but wonder what had prompted all of these things, but in her heart, she knew what it meant. She just didn’t want to admit it to herself.
Following that difficult and troubling series of very unfortunate events, Rarity tried to focus back on the task at hand, but her mind kept drifting back to the scenes she had seen in the quaint Ponyville streets. The ponies milling around everywhere, the forms, the saddlebags, and the crowds. It was all so much to take in, and whatever it meant was probably not well at all.
“Keep calm, Rarity, keep calm,” she said to her now slightly deranged-looking self in the mirror, recollecting for about the third time today. “This surely isn’t to last forever. Everything will be back to normal before the month is out.”
Rarity cracked a maniacal smile to herself and sent a shaky hoof through her hair as if she had just won an argument. After that, she, at last, was able to finish the uniform designs she had been working on, and they were displayed gallantly in the front room. The uniforms were a silvery grey, with various spaces for patches and insignia, as well as sizable pockets just as had been asked of her. Finishing the whole to-do was a tight belt around the barrel, with added pockets for munitions and supplies, plus vacant spaces where equipment could be clipped on. Rarity was a bit worried about what those in Canterlot would think, but other things troubled her so much she didn’t think much of it in the first place.
With her work done and her evening unobstructed, Rarity slipped upstairs and prepared for bed, but she couldn’t get herself to relax with so many things on her mind, not while she brushed her teeth or dressed in her luxurious pajamas. She was just about to collapse on her bed in exhaustion from the day when somepony peeked into her room, shyly clinging to the corner of the doorframe. It was a small filly, with white fur that was identical to Rarity’s and a mane that was colored in two vertical stripes, one lavender and the other a faded pink. She wore a curious, innocent smile on her face, which looked very sweet. This was Rarity’s younger sister, Sweetie Belle.
“Oh, um, hi sis.” Sweetie Belle greeted curiously. “I was just, um, wondering… what were all those weird suits you were working on downstairs? Are you refining another client’s designs again?”
Apparently, Sweetie Belle had gone snooping around once Rarity went upstairs, but that wasn’t important. Rarity chuckled at her sister’s interesting observations.
“Hm? Oh, no, Sweetie Belle! Those are just the new uniforms that the Ministry of Defense wanted!” Rarity quickly explained, “Don’t they look ravishing?”
Sweetie Belle seemed reluctant, and it was clear she did not think so. To her, it lacked any of the things her older sister had taught her about fashion, and if anything it was functional and little else. It was partially Rarity’s fault that this was all Sweetie Belle knew regarding outfits, but at the moment, this didn’t come to mind.
“Oh, uh, they’re great,” she replied unconvincingly. “I mean, I just thought they just looked kinda weird.”
Sweetie Belle grimaced once she realized her insensitivity, and Rarity almost flinched. She responded with a slow sigh.
“I know, I know,” Rarity concurred. “It’s just… that’s the way the Ministry wants them, I suppose. Without any sequins and such.”
Rarity’s dimmed expression had the same effect on Sweetie Belle’s, and the two stood sullenly in her bedroom. Rather than leaving, however, Sweetie Belle trotted further into Rarity’s room and sat on the bed with her. She looked to her inquisitively.
“So, uh… what do you think about all the stuff happening in town?”
Sweetie Belle seemed to have noticed what was going on but was far from charismatic about it.
“Well, I think it’s terrible,” Rarity replied optimistically, a hint of despondence to her words, “but I’ll be thankful when it’s over.”
Sweetie Belle glanced at her and slowly gulped. Then she shifted about on the bed and gave the feeling that something was weighing on her. She inhaled sharply and began.
“I’ve-been-meaning-to-tell-you-that-Apple-Bloom-and-her-family-say-there’s-gonna-”
Sweetie paused to breathe.
“-gonna-be-a-war!”
Rarity’s eyebrows rose and her jaw dropped. A war? How could it be? Surely the Ponies of Canterlot were generous enough to understand that war is… terrible, isn’t it? That it simply isn’t done!
“A war? With whom?”
“Princess Twilight says we’re gonna fight the Changelings and stuff. She says it’s bad… really bad.”
“Why, that’s awful!” Rarity exclaimed, and then gave another sigh. “Well… it’s a good thing they’re so far away. I’m sure that it won’t last that long, those Changelings are sure to be defeated. It’s only a matter of time.”
Sweetie Belle cocked her head.
“How long?”
Rarity made a quick guesstimate and mumbled as she calculated.
“Oh… how about a month?”
A month?! Talk about shooting for the stars, Rarity, did you pull that out of the sky?! Sweetie Belle seemed to have noticed this too, for she jumped back at this estimate. She hoped the war would be short but even she knew it wasn’t that short! Rarity hadn’t noticed her sister’s reaction though, she seemed lost in thought.
“Rarity…” Sweetie began reluctantly. “...Are you sure it’ll be that quick? I mean, by the way that Apple Bloom and Scootaloo were talking about it, we might be fighting for a whole year. Not just a month. That’s too short.”
Rarity’s expression hardened and became grim, but she held on firmly and defiantly.
“Preposterous!” she exclaimed in refusal, “This whole thing is but a fleeting moment, Sweetie Belle. It’s sure to not last more than a month. Really.”
Sweetie Belle frowned a bit. She still didn’t believe her.
“But why, Rarity?! Why can’t it last that long? What makes you sure it’s gonna end so soon? I wish it would end that fast, but even I know it probably can’t, not unless we were really lucky.”
Rarity mumbled again, her eyes almost glassy, and she tried to come up with an answer. After what seemed like forever, she didn’t say anything at all. She didn’t even look at her sister, but was rather, still lost in her thoughts.
“Because… because, because. It has to.”
Rarity’s reasoning seemed very flawed, which made Sweetie Belle fidget nervously. She knew what was going to come, so she let it out.
“So… you’re saying you wouldn’t like the idea of Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and I becoming a flag bearer with a pair of drummer girls for the Army?”
Rarity’s head turned at such a speed she practically lost it in the friction. Her pupils contracted to such a size that the whites of her eyes were nearly all that was there, and her mouth contorted in shock and anguish.
“You did what?!” Rarity screeched at her sister, “Wh- the- but- why?!”
Sweetie Belle looked very guilty. She tried to speak up, but her words were lost in Rarity’s fervent protesting.
“You-You… you can’t! You’re too young for war! You’re not capable of fighting at such an age! Why do you want to fight at all for Celestia’s sake?!”
Sweetie Belle looked up to her sister determinately.
“We are not too young, Rarity! And we are entirely capable! Being Flag Bearer and Drummer Girl is a thing they let Fillies and Colts do, and we wanted to because our country needs us!”
Rarity was still aghast and did not agree at all with her ideas. Why them?! Why her of all ponies?! Why in Tartarus her sister?!
“No, no, no!” Rarity refuted, her voice a shriek, “As your big sister, I forbid you! I want you to stay as far away from the frontlines as physically possible! Didn’t you ever stop to think about the consequences?! What if you were to get captured?! What if you fell and were injured, or what if you were in a fight and you d-duh…di…”
Rarity couldn’t finish that sentence, but she continued with a pleading look of desperation to her sister. It was obvious what she meant.
“I-I… would never forgive myself!”
Sweetie Belle appealed despite her sister’s very reasonable assertations. She seemed to defy her sister’s will almost out of spite by this point, a filly that was getting too big for her britches.
“But Rarity!” she wailed with the sweetest look she could muster, “Applejack and Rainbow Dash let Apple Bloom and Scootaloo do it! They said it’d be great, and it’d be fun! Oh please, Rarity! Pleeeeease!”
But Rarity just wasn’t having it, Bambi eyes or no. She angrily glared at Sweetie Belle, whose pleading look began to fade. She wouldn’t allow it, she couldn’t allow it. Her sister, serving in the military? It was impossible… inconceivable. Unallowable. Unforgettable.
“I- what- no!! They meaning dear Applejack and Rainbow Dash convinced you?!” she screamed sorrowfully, “Enough of this!! Tomorrow I’m going to talk with them and see if sense cannot prevail! As for you, Sweetie Belle, you are grounded for a month, and I hope sleep dispels these notions of yours!”
Rarity, despite Sweetie Belle’s protesting, literally pushed her sister into her room with all her strength. She was no earth pony, but an equally furious sister could amount to that much. Sweetie Belle bickered and refuted, but when a door is shut in your face, even you know the conversation is over.
“That girl, I swear!” said Rarity, angrily, “I cannot believe Applejack and Rainbow Dash would ever go as far as to convince my sister to join the army! How could they?! How could they?!!”
Rarity was very upset by this point, positively steaming with rage, and she threw herself into her bed irritably. She tussled with the sheets and the pillows, and muffled cries of rage were a punctual battle cry, but at last, she grew weary after another 15 minutes. She slowly but surely drifted off into a troubled, uneasy sleep, where she dreamed of a future of uncertainty and conflict.
After many hours of fitful rest, Rarity woke from her sleep in a gasp of shock. Air heaved into her lungs as she sat up in a panic, and her eyes and face swerved to scan the length of her bedroom frantically. Rarity saw nothing out of the ordinary, nor any disturbances, but she was not at all convinced. Rarity lowered herself back into bed and tried to close her eyes again, but when she did something woke from within her dreams.
”Rarity!”
Sweetie Belle.
“Sweetie Belle!”
Rarity shot upright again, heaving more air into her lungs. In an instant, she threw off her bedcovers with the force of a raging bull and fell out of bed. She raced out of her bedroom, practically busting her own door down, and galloped straight for her sister’s accompanying room at Rainbow Dash speed. Rarity willed as hard as she could, her eyes shut closed as she made for her sister’s bedroom door, that she’d be fast asleep. Nothing to disturb her, nothing to wake her, and that all… would be well.
But instead, she was gone. So was Rarity’s consciousness.
“Alright, Ms. Belle. Just get some rest, and you’ll be cleared to check out tomorrow.”
These had been the comforting words of a nurse from Ponyville Hospital, but they did little to stifle Rarity’s discomfort. Rarity had collapsed after going into shock and had genuinely fainted. It was only luck that a neighbor heard the disturbance and that she had been found shortly after. Rarity hadn’t been pleased when she learned she was confined to her hospital bed for the time being until tomorrow, which destroyed all chance of intercepting her sister’s escape. Rarity struggled to get out of bed, but she was too weak, emotionally and physically. Rarity watched and grumbled as the nurse went to depart from her bedside, but was intercepted by a second nurse. This second nurse whispered to the first, which then perked up with a gleam in her eyes
“Ooh!” the 1st nurse said excitedly, turning back to her with a smile and a musical voice. “Rarity, you have some visitors to see you!”
Rarity groaned a little and waved an exhausted foreleg towards the nurses.
“Send them in, please.”
The door of the hospital ward opened, and two ponies entered the room, one flying, and the other walking. One had orange fur with a blonde mane and a thick country accent. The other pony had fur blue as the sky, wings, and vertically striped hair that looked like a literal rainbow. These were Rarity’s close friends, Applejack (the orange one) and Rainbow Dash (the blue one). Applejack approached her bedside tenderly, while Rainbow Dash carefully flew overhead.
“How yeh doin’, sugarcube?” Applejack asked consolingly. “You okay?”
Rarity shook her head sadly, and brought her left hoof to her head in a fit of despair, almost as if she were nursing a terrible migraine or some sort of head injury.
“Terrible… terrible!” Rarity moaned woefully, “My sister has gone to enlist in the army of all things! Oh, how alone and how terrified she must be!”
Applejack exchanged a glance with Rainbow Dash, then sighed.
“Look, Rarity.” she said soothingly, “Ah understand wantin’ ta keep yer sister safe, but bein’ a Drummer Girl or a Flag Bearer really ain’t that dangerous.”
Rarity sat up in bed and gave them both a scorching gaze. It was at that moment she remembered that AJ and RD had been the ones to convince Sweetie Belle to enlist. Her already woeful disposition worsened fast, and her words grew spiteful.
“Of all the-! Of course, you’d say that! You were the ones who encouraged her! How could you just let them go?! They’re too young to be serving, too young to be fighting at such an age!”
A look of guilt flashed across their faces. Applejack stepped up, closer to her bedside this time.
“Ah was against the idea myself,” Applejack said quietly, “but ah had some encouragement. Granny Smith says that Apple Bloom’s plenty capable of fighting and ah know it fer myself that she’s smart enough to take good care of her an’ her friends.”
Rainbow Dash nodded.
“They’ll be okay, Rarity!” she added cheerily, “Those three fillies are some of the toughest I’ve ever met, except for maybe me when I was a filly, hehe!”
Rarity looked to Rainbow and gave her a glance that would wither flowers and burn ants with the intensity they had (poor Fluttershy). Sweetie Belle hadn’t convinced her, so why would they? Why would Applejack’s grandmother of all ponies decide this?!
“Even if they are ‘tough’, you should have consulted me first!” Rarity responded indignantly, “She’s my sister, after all! You really thought it was that important, huh?!”
AJ and RD’s gazes saddened. Rarity was right.
“Ah’m sorry ah didn’ consult you, ah thought you’d be proud yer sister wanted teh fight. Ah guess ah need to talk ter Granny Smith ‘bout it. No hard feelings?”
Applejack had no way of combing over what she’d put into motion. Rarity stared coldly at Applejack, then turned over and faced away from her in bed, her forelegs crossed over each other. Applejack moved in a bit closer, guiltily looking at her.
“Rarity, you ain’t too mad now, are yeh?”
Rarity did not reply. She continued to glower and pretended that suddenly she had become deaf and that the opposite wall looked very interesting. Applejack sighed and turned about towards Rainbow Dash, who was re-reading Daring Do and the Sapphire Statue for about her 127th time whilst hovering in the air.
“Come on, Rainbow Dash.” AJ beckoned, “Let’s go. She wants ter be alone.”
Applejack slowly trotted out of the room after a sad look towards Rarity, who still did not return the gaze. RD flew after her, and with the two departed, this left Rarity alone with her thoughts again, in the tense silence that it brought. All was quiet. All was silent. All was miserable. Rarity’s gaze turned over to the doorway and looked at the shadow it cast on her, like a physical metaphor. Her lips wobbled, and her eyes blinked, for they were filling with heavy tears. She looked and watched as they fell onto her sheets, like a short rain.
Not drama tears, the kind she cried in her usual times of ‘distress’ and disguised attention-seeking, but real tears. Ones of sadness, ones of despair, ones of being alone and cold in the world. Ones where you know your sister has run off to fight in an armed conflict between the two most powerful nations in Equus, and that you have no way of stopping her. Even if Rarity did bring it to Celestia, or some other important pony, how could the CMC be noted in the infinite wave of soldiers? Not to mention the fact that their tasks really weren’t all that dangerous, but Rarity didn’t acknowledge that. That would mean she was selfish. Unlike everything in her life, every single display she had ever made, every tear that ever fell, these were kept to herself. The only sign they ever existed were the stains in her sheets, which she pulled over herself and nestled into despairingly. She slowly turned over, stuffed her face into the pillow, and allowed only muffled sobs to escape from it. Every vacant space in her words was filled with a sob, leaving no moment behind.
“Why… why… oh, Sweetie Belle, please… please, be okay.”
Her pleas and begs were filled to the brim with despair. No amount of denial could save her, not even a little..