//------------------------------// // A Prima Vista // Story: Where My Heart Lives // by D4ftP0ny //------------------------------// “So,” said Rarity as she levitated her measuring tape along Octavia’s right front leg, “tell me a bit about yourself!” The gray mare held perfectly still, her face impassive and relaxed as Rarity measured her. “There’s not much to tell, really,” she said simply. Rarity nodded politely, even as she mentally rolled her eyes. That’s what they all say, she thought. Nearly every one of her previous customers in the past week had said the exact same thing when Rarity had asked that question: “Oh, there’s not much to tell, really…” after which followed an hour-long explanation of their life, their job and everything else they could think to say. After all, it is the illusion of modesty that matters, is it not? Rarity felt the corner of her mouth quirk. I’ll have her life story in ‘ten seconds flat’, as Rainbow Dash would say. Her measuring tape moved to Octavia’s chest in a haze of blue magic. Rarity pulled the tape taut against the other mare’s coat and peered through her glasses before turning to the notebook that levitated next to her. A small, stubby pencil scribbled measurements on the pages before Rarity turned back to her client, her ears still perked for the tell-tale beginning of what was sure to be yet another in a long line of riveting biographies as she moved the tape from Octavia’s chest to her left front leg. Octavia, however, did not continue, and Rarity felt the pensive silence of a moment build into the awkward silence of a minute as she measured and scribbled. The lack of conversation should not have bothered her so much, but she found her eyes darting to the other mare’s face time and time again, searching her for even the tiniest hint of hesitation or confusion, to see if her client was simply searching for where to begin. But there was no hint of indecision on the other mare’s features – simply a calm, collected expression that said she was quite content to remain silent… perfectly, totally silent… completely, wholly, faultlessly, and ineffably silent even in the face of Rarity’s insightful and titillating queries. Rarity felt the corner of her eye twitch minutely. I have to get her to talk, or I’ll go mad. “Well…” she offered Octavia a small smile which she hoped didn’t look as awkward as it felt. “What is it that you do, darling?” The unicorn twitched her head slightly, sending the measuring tape sliding up the other pony’s side until it lay along her back. Octavia exhaled softly and after a moment she wiggled her hindquarters at Rarity ever so slightly, drawing her eyes to the deep purple treble clef that adorned her flank. “The clef didn’t give it away?” she asked, and again it was impossible for Rarity to miss the smile in her voice. Octavia gave her flank one last, infinitesimal wiggle and Rarity felt a slight blush rise in her cheeks as she turned back to her measuring tape which rested just atop the aforementioned now-stationary flank. Oh for the love of Celestia… Rarity almost jerked the tape away from the other mare’s rump in shock, but she was a professional and she would hang up her scissors and thread before she would let a customer get the best of her! She set her jaw firmly and continued to take Octavia’s measurements just as casually as she had before, even going so far as allowing the tape to slide across the other mare’s back and flank just a little slower than she normally would have as she moved from flank to leg. One good turn deserves another, as it were. “Well, one cannot always tell what a pony’s talent is just by looking at their cutie mark, now can they?” she said lightly as she ran the tape along Octavia’s left rear leg. “I would say that you are involved in music of some kind in some way, but how am I to know exactly what it is you do?” She pulled the tape taut then scribbled in her book again before continuing. “You could be a composer, or play an instrument. You could play lots of instruments, in fact.” Her lips curved into a smile. “Or you could clean the bathroom at the concert hall for all I know.” Another small exhalation indicated the barest laugh from Octavia as Rarity flicked her measuring tape once in the air and rolled it neatly up before scribbling a few more notes in her book. “Touché,” Octavia said softly. The stubby pencil danced over the pages in Rarity’s notebook adding a few additional notes to the exact measurements within – notes about Octavia’s specific shape, about where the numbers had to be followed precisely, and about where the unicorn’s uniquely gifted eye could see that they could be played with just a bit – all the while waiting for Octavia to take the offered bait for conversation and expand upon her talent and career. The other mare seemed content, however, to hold her tongue tighter than Rarity had held the bouquet at Princess Cadence’s wedding. And that is tightly, indeed. “Well, which is it?” Rarity pressed gently. Her lips curved into a smile as she took the last measurements from Octavia’s right rear leg. “Will you tell me? Or shall I work in a few spots along the bodice to hang toilet plungers?” The comment surprised Rarity slightly. Normally, she would never have joked about a client’s talent or career – it simply was not professional to do so – and she knew for a fact that NONE of her other clients would take such a joke well. With Octavia, however… It almost feels like trying to drag information out of Twilight when she first moved to Ponyville. Her smile grew infinitesimally. Twilight was a bit more… sarcastic, however. To her relief and pleasure, Octavia simply laughed her breathy, almost non-existent laugh and cast her eye to Rarity for a moment before turning them back to the wall. “I’m a musician,” she offered finally. “I play the cello.” “The cello,” Rarity repeated as she scribbled in her book, “a bit larger than a violin, a bit smaller than a bass – that cello?” The mare smiled again and nodded. “That would be the one. I occasionally play the bass or the double bass, but the cello was my first instrument. It was the one that got me interested in music.” “Your first love, as it were,” Rarity said, her eyes darting to Octavia’s. The mare sighed ever so slightly and turned once more, meeting Rarity’s gaze evenly for a long moment before she finally spoke. “I… I suppose you could say that,” she said, but for the first time, her words were frazzled. If her words before had been silk then these were cheap linen, frayed around the edges. She held Rarity’s gaze firmly in her own, as if she were trying to decide what to say next. Her gaze was so intent, so focused that Rarity felt her magically controlled pencil slow and stop beneath the onslaught of Octavia’s deep violet eyes. For just a moment, a fleeting, ethereal moment, Rarity could have sworn that she could see the other mare’s thoughts racing frantically about behind her cool façade. The unicorn felt almost helpless before those violet pools, as if the other mare were staring into her very soul. She had beautiful eyes, to be sure, but that was not what drew Rarity to them. The emotion she saw darting through them, the feelings that went flitting around the edges of their amethyst depths drew her in, begging her to find them, to see them. Twilight’s eyes were lavender, but somehow her unicorn friend’s eyes had never drawn her like Octavia’s did… …and just as suddenly as they had appeared they vanished, those sprites of emotion, and Octavia’s eyes closed to Rarity completely. “Indeed, you could say that,” Octavia repeated and her voice was once again the unbroken silk that it had been mere moments before. Rarity felt her pencil slide off the edge of her book, but she didn’t move to recover immediately. She felt as if she had heard the opening bars of a symphony and then been denied listening to the rest – as if she had read the first few lines of a new book then had it taken forcibly from her hooves, or as if she had accidentally peeked into a room she was not supposed to and seen things she ought not to have seen. Finally, Octavia looked back to the wall, her eyes so calm that one would never have guessed the cacophony that had been there mere moments before, and at the absence of those violet eyes, Rarity’s sense of propriety returned. With a gentle cough to clear her throat, Rarity’s pencil returned to her book where she finished her notes, trying her level best to keep her magic from shaking. “Well, that’s lovely,” she said, and she was proud to note that her voice was perfectly even. “I have to say that I haven’t had the pleasure of hearing such music in quite some time. Not since I was here in Canterlot a few months ago, at the very least.” Her eyes swept up to Octavia’s face once more, but again her eyes were on the wall, her expression stony. In a direct breech of what Rarity considered a designer’s code of honor, she allowed the mare to hold her silence this time. The silence was held for another half an hour as Rarity swept several different fabrics over her gray client from silk to finely-spun cotton in colors from black to vibrant pink. Rarity made notes as to which seemed to work best as well as a few notes that would assist her in her work around the ponyquins, but she held her tongue until finally, as the street lamps in Canterlot flickered to life outside, she tucked the last bolt of fabric away and turned to Octavia. “Well, that was productive!” she said with a smile. “I have more than enough to work with for now, and I assure you I will have something spectacular to show you at your second fitting next week.” Octavia hopped down from the small raised platform and gave her coat a shake before turning back to Rarity and smiling ever so slightly. “I look forward to it,” she said with a nod. “I am sorry for coming in so late today. I shall endeavor to be a bit more considerate next time.” “Oh, think nothing of it,” Rarity said with a wave of her hoof. “It didn’t take too long, and I would have been here this late anyway!” She favored Octavia with a smile, but the memory of what she had seen earlier made it feel forced; however, if her client noticed she gave no indication and smiled back minutely in return. “Even so, I’m certain that you will see me much earlier in the day next time.” She dipped her head slightly. “Thank you again for seeing me, Miss Rarity – until next week.” The mare stood straight again, turned and exited the shop out into the gathering night. Rarity watched her go, her smile still applied liberally to her face, but once Octavia was well and truly gone, she felt it scrunch into curious pursed lips as her inquisitiveness reared its majestic and well-groomed head. Even as she began to close up her shop for the night, even with the myriad of other orders that she had to fulfill in the next several weeks, there was but one thought on her mind: Who IS she? ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ It never took Rarity long to close up her shop here in Canterlot – with so many projects going on at once it just didn’t seem to make sense doing so. The entire place was in a permanent state of semi-disarray that bordered very closely on chaos, but it was the kind of “inspirational chaos” that Rarity enjoyed and thrived on; therefore, she had listed it very low on her to-do list and it had almost been labeled “pointless”. Besides, she thought as she flicked off the lights and shut the front door behind her, I’m not certain that I could concentrate long enough to do so tonight, anyway. Her horn glowed as she levitated the key from her saddlebags to the lock. With a gentle turn and a soft click the lock secured the door for the night and with a hasty jerk of her horn she pulled the key from the lock and sent it sailing back into her saddlebags. She cast one last critical eye on the door and her front window displays, making a mental note to perhaps change one or two of them to something a bit more toned-down, before turning and starting off down the street at a brisk pace with only one thing on her mind: I simply MUST speak to Fleur about this… this Octavia! The unicorn turned a corner and hurried off towards the home where she was staying during her time in the city: the residence of one Fleur de Lis, a unicorn whom she had met briefly when she had first met Fancy Pants. As she bustled down the street, Rarity smiled slightly at the memory. The way she was posing everywhere… it was like something out of a magazine. She would be the first to admit that her initial opinion of the lithe, beautiful unicorn had not been the best, but thanks again had to go to Fancy Pants and his seemingly limitless wisdom… or at the very least, his incredible skill at guessing. During their correspondence, Rarity had asked whether she would need to rent a room at an inn nearby for the duration of her stay, but to her surprise Fancy Pants had told her not to worry about such things and that he would take care of everything. I was certain he didn’t mean that I could stay with HIM, Rarity reflected as she passed a small fountain that gurgled peacefully in the evening quiet. After all, Fancy Pants is a gentlecolt of the highest caliber. He would NEVER invite a lady to stay with him in his home! She had been correct, of course, but to her surprise Fancy had not simply set her up in a hotel as she had imagined he would. Instead, upon her arrival in Canterlot, he had informed her that she would be staying with the very pony she had seen him with before the Royal Wedding: the thin, brainless pretty posing pony, Fleur de Lis. “I think the two of you will get along splendidly,” he had told her that first day in the city as he had settled into the carriage next to her. “The two of you have more in common that you suspect, I think.” I guess I shouldn’t have been so surprised, Rarity reflected. That is a lesson in never judging a pony until you get to know them, I suppose. As it had turned out, Fleur was anything but a brainless posing pony. Her talent was in modeling, true enough, but she was also a business-pony in her own right. Her family had been in the textile business for a very long time and upon her father’s death the entire company he owned had fallen squarely upon her delicate shoulders. According to what Fleur had told Rarity, she had tried to run the company as best she could for several years until finally she had admitted defeat – she knew that she just did not have the knowledge to run the series of factories that her father owned correctly, and that if she continued to do so they would all soon be out of business. However, she hadn’t wanted to simply sell the company outright. Her father had worked his entire life to build it and she wanted to do her best to honor his legacy, but she also wanted her mother and her younger siblings to be taken care of, and as such she did not want to sell the factories under her care to just any pony off the street. She still modeled as often as she could and it was at a particular party in Canterlot that she had first been introduced to Fancy Pants. The two had conversed for a short time before she had learned of Fancy Pants’ interests and his holdings in the business community. As Fleur told it, it had taken her very little time to decide what to do with her family’s company, but within the week she had approached Fancy with a proposition to sell him the company. Her only conditions had been that she remain a controlling interest in the company’s decisions and that her family receive their share of the revenue. Fancy Pants, being the business-savvy pony that he was, readily agreed to the deal and, being the gentlecolt that he was, also agreed fully to her terms. The deal had been signed and their friendship had grown from that day forward. Rarity smiled again. I guess Fancy Pants truly enjoys helping mares in need! A true gentlecolt, through and through! She giggled lightly as she turned down another street, quickening her pace as she continued towards her destination. The buildings around her quickly faded from small, well-kept shops to beautiful homes. This particular end of Canterlot was not known for its huge, elegant estates, but what the houses here lacked in size they made up for in a well-kept grace. They were the kinds of homes that felt lived-in: warm and inviting to look at while still maintaining the sophisticated air of Canterlot. To one side of her a house loomed large in the twilight. In the light from the street lamps she could just barely make out the dusty red tiles on the high steeples of its roof. The sides of it were all smooth, cream-colored material that made her think of some of the small towns that she and her friends had seen far to the south on their way to Appleloosa. The lights inside were on, shining a gentle golden glow out of its small, circular windows, and it somehow made Rarity think of brilliant starry nights out on the desert flats. She turned her head, her mane bobbing in the warm summer night. Just across the street sat a marvelous home with a high, flat roof and several large stone pillars out front that reminded her of some of the ancient ruins that Twilight had such a fascination with. Two pillars on each side of the front of the home seemed to hold the roof up, allowing the two stories beneath it to nestle comfortably behind their steadfast support as their own windows added to the golden blush of the street. Each home on this street seemed to be different, as if each pony had simply chosen a part of Equestria as their inspiration and built a house around it, but each one had something very much in common: they were all immaculately kept with beautiful front lawns, artfully trimmed hedges, and perfectly kept façades. The kinds of touches and detail that let everypony who knew what to look for know that somepony with plenty of money lived there without rubbing it in anypony’s face. Rarity smiled broadly. Someday, I’ll have a home just as beautiful and well-kept! Oh, someday! She nodded slightly to herself as she approached the home at the end of the street. A home that was simple with an all-brick construction and a clean gray roof. It had many large windows on both top and bottom floor, all of them blazing in the night as Rarity approached the home of her friend, Fleur de Lis. With one hoof she threw open the door and was immediately bathed in golden light as she dashed inside, slamming the door behind her. Before her in the towering foyer rose a large stairway that led into the second story of the home. To either side of the front door stretched two long halls, each giving access to the various rooms on the bottom floor. The walls were all white, easily reflecting the warm light of the various lamps and lights in the home and filling it to the brim with illumination. The unicorn turned back and forth for a moment, trying to decide which direction to go. I’ve been in this house almost two weeks and I can barely find the bathroom without help! She thought with a twinge of irritation. It’s not such a big house! I should be able to do this..! Normally, Rarity would simply have set out and explored the home until she found the other unicorn, wherever she may have been – minimal fuss, little to no disturbance of the household – but tonight she was just not in the mood. She took a deep breath and started shouting. “Fleur?” she called into the home. “Fleeeeuuurrr?? Where are you? I need to speak with you!” She looked first down the hallway to the left then to the one on the right. “Fleeeuuur!” she called again, but as she drew yet another breath to continue her calling, the gentle but insistent clearing of a throat nearby caught her attention and caused her to turn towards the hallway on her left. From the first door down the hall came a petite rose-colored earth pony mare with a soft blue-gray mane and deep brown eyes. She smiled at Rarity as she closed the door behind her and approached the entryway. “Is there something I can help you with, Miss Rarity?” she asked, her voice level and polite despite the tinge of amusement that colored it. “Oh yes, Rosette,” she said, her ears drooping slightly in relief. “I am looking for Fleur. Could you tell me where she is, please?” The head maid of Fleur’s household nodded, the small white head-dress she wore bobbing gently in her mane as she did so. “Yes, miss. She is in the reading room at the end of the south hallway.” She pointed with a hoof towards the hallway that branched from the right side of the door. “She’s been expecting you. In fact, she was expecting you almost an hour ago, miss.” “Yes, I was expecting to be back almost an hour ago, Rosette,” she said with a sigh, brushing her mane out of her face with a hoof. “I was unavoidably detained, however, and that is what I would like to speak to her about.” She turned and pointed down the south hall. “The reading room, you said?” Rosette smiled minutely again, her chocolate eyes sparkling. “Yes, miss.” “Thank you, Rosette.” “Will that be all, miss?” “Indeed. Thank you again.” Rarity gave the maid a quick nod and darted off down the hallway, her hooves thumping solidly against the carpet as she left the entryway and the smiling maid behind. She passed three closed doors until she reached the half-open door at the very end of the hallway and didn’t even hesitate a moment before pushing it open and hurrying inside. The room was large, perhaps only a little smaller than the entry hall she had just been inside, and it was a room that she knew Twilight Sparkle would love very much because it was about as full of books as a room could get. They dominated the room from floor to ceiling, leaving only space for several large windows as well as a sizeable fireplace along the southern wall. The fireplace lay dormant this night – the summer night was warm enough for anypony – yet even so the room was brightly lit by a large chandelier hanging from the middle of the ceiling, a brilliance supplemented by various smaller lamps standing at the corners of the room. In the very center of the room were several comfortable-looking chairs and a brilliant red chaise lounge arrayed around a small table with a lamp surrounded by half a dozen books, a teapot, and two cups upon saucers. One of the books levitated in a blushing pink aura and hovered over to the white unicorn who lay across the long chaise, her pink mane falling gently about her as she turned her violet eyes to Rarity and smiled. “Well, there you are,” she said, her melodic tenor voice filling the quiet room with music for just a moment as she shifted on the couch, setting the book down next to her. “I was beginning to wonder if you had decided to go out on the town for the night!” Rarity smiled and rolled her eyes. “Fleur, you know perfectly well that I would do no such thing – a lady does not simply go out on the town on a whim, you know.” The words were sharp, but her tone was not and Fleur simply laughed lightly as she sat up. “Oh Rarity,” she said, “You may need to loosen up a little bit. After all, you’re only in Canterlot for a month and what is a month in Canterlot without a party?” “Well…” Rarity paused, her eyebrows raised. “I suppose you’re right…” She tapped a hoof to her chin pensively for a moment before shaking her head vigorously. “But that wasn’t what I was doing tonight, Fleur – I had the most unusual customer this evening.” Her hostess levitated the book back to the table, her violet eyes wide with curiosity. “Oh is that so? You normally have several tales to tell about your customers throughout the day. Today it’s just one?” “This mare was different, Fleur! I can’t even begin to…” She sighed heavily. “I just need your advice, darling. Please.” The taller unicorn watched her for a moment, her eyes seeming to take all of Rarity in at a glance before she smiled benevolently and patted the lounge next to her. “Of course, Rarity, anything for you.” Rarity sighed and moved to the lounge, flopping herself down next to her friend. “Well, I was a half hour away from closing the shop when out of the twilight walks this gray mare…” With expert precision, Rarity poured the story of the unusual evening out to her friend. From Octavia’s mysterious appearance and atypical behavior to her rapid and equally mysterious departure, sparing no details save the minute rump-wiggle the other mare had employed to get Rarity’s attention on her cutie mark. She had no idea why she left it out except that it made her blush when she thought about it and she didn’t want to take the time to explain what exactly she was blushing about. “—and then she just vanished into the night like a phantom,” Rarity finished as she poured herself a cup of tea. The aroma of fresh berries filled her nostrils as she levitated the cup to her and she sighed contently. “It was the strangest visit I’ve had since coming to Canterlot, that’s for certain.” She made some of Pinkie Pie’s visits seem normal and Pinkie walks on the ceiling sometimes! Fleur simply nodded, her pink magical aura lifting the teapot Rarity had set down and filling her own cup with it. She settled the pot back down onto the table and lifted the cup to her lips, taking a slow, delicate sip from it. Rarity watched her closely, waiting with baited breath for the mare she had begun to look upon as a big sister to give her some kind of advice, some brilliant nugget of wisdom that would make this whole evening make sense. Finally, she sighed happily and turned her luminous eyes to Rarity, gazing at her over the top of her teacup. “She certainly sounds interesting,” Fleur said casually. Rarity snorted and levitated her cup back to the table. “Interesting doesn’t begin to describe it, Fleur,” she said, tossing her mane indignantly. “She was mysterious, abrasive, insulting, and imperious! She was flattering, kind, quiet, and scintillating!” “And those are all traits that would fall under the title of interesting, dear Rarity.” Fleur’s lips curved almost invisibly. “Every once in a while we all have the fortune to meet a pony who piques our interest, even if we are not looking for them – just as I met you, my dear.” Rarity nodded graciously, and Fleur sipped at her tea before continuing. “So it is safe to assume that you are looking forward to seeing her again in a week?” “Indeed I am,” Rarity said, her smile becoming determined. “And next time, she won’t get away so easily!” Fleur paused with her tea halfway to her lips, an eyebrow cocked inquisitively. “…pardon?” Rarity sat up straight, her hoof held before her chest dramatically. “Oh, that mysterious gray filly may have gotten the jump on me today, but next time…” She rubbed her hooves together with fiendish glee. “Next time, I’ll be ready!” “Ready?” “Ooh yes, I’ll be ready for her. I’m going to work on an entire list of questions to ask her. All about her career, her life, her family, everything, Fleur!” She giggled slightly. “Oh just you wait! One week from now, I’ll be coming back from the shop to tell you absolutely everything there is to know about this mysterious Octavia!” Rarity’s mind quickly filled with questions for her gray customer as well as techniques to get her to open up a bit more about herself. So focused was she on her new mission that she completely missed the small roll of Fleur’s eyes and the hint of a knowing smile that touched her friend’s lips.