Ivory

by Lithe Kamitatsy


Chapter Three

“...Almost there,” Frederic said softly, taking slow and easy breaths.

“Yes, darling... do be gentle now. We don’t want any unwanted tears,” Rarity responded. Frederic stared into her sapphire eyes, using them as guidance through the process. “No worries, I am right here..”

“Is- is this okay?” Frederic asked, careful not to make any sudden moves.

“Simply marvelous, Frederic... I must say, this is rather surprising. I never expected this out of you,” she said, breathless.

“Well, if you like it, then I suppose this works,” Frederic said with a small smile. “Thank you again, Rarity. This has been quite the experience,” he said.

“Oh, it was no trouble at all, Frederic. You look absolutely dashing in your new suit,” Rarity said with a demure giggle. The pianist looked at himself in the mirror, admiring the charcoal suit.

“A fantastic fit,” said Frederic. “Not so tight it restricts movement, but not so loose that it gets... baggy.”

“Wonderful, darling! I’m so pleased it fits,” Rarity said as she began to remove the remaining pins from the sleeves and cuffs of the suit. “I admit, I wasn’t completely sure it’d work out. After all, I do often do dresses rather than suits. But still, one must cover all the basics.”

“I’d say this goes a little beyond basic,” said Frederic. “You sell yourself too short.”

Rarity blushed at the compliment. “Why Frederic, what a kind thing to say,” she said, very much humbled.

“Well, I think it’s earned. That is...” he paused. “I’ll remember to take it back if it suspiciously shrinks.”

“No worries dear, there will be no shrinkage here!” she said, giving a small laugh at her rhyme. “A friend of mine introduced me to a few spells that help with that. Spells that keep them from shrinking, or the colors from fading. I’m thinking of starting a new line of enchanted suits and dresses that conform to the wearer in case they gain or lose weight.”

“Hmm...” said Frederic. “But if they don’t need to buy new clothes after going on a diet, doesn’t that mean you sell less?”

“Mm, perhaps,” said Rarity. “But I think having happy, satisfied customers is more important than numbers sold.”

“That is a sentiment that is really rather rare nowadays. Generosity goes a long way, I think.” Frederic examined himself once more in the mirror, and gave a satisfied sigh. I wonder what Octavia- he caught himself before he finished that thought, trying to put it away from his mind. He was past that. He should have been past that.

“Something the matter, Frederic? You’re scowling,” Rarity asked, caught off-guard by the sudden change in Frederic’s expression.

“Hm?” asked Frederic. “Oh, nothing important.”

“If you’re sure... I just hope I wasn’t the cause,” Rarity asked, not entirely convinced.

“Oh, don’t be absurd,” said Frederic. “Just some trivial personal thing that popped into my head. Nothing wrong with anything you’re doing. So,” he cleared his throat. “How much for the suit?”

“I couldn’t possibly charge you when you agreed to play for Sweetie’s birthday,” Rarity said.

“Well,” Frederic chuckled. “That’s a reasonable barter, then.”

The front door to the Boutique let out a small chime as another pony entered – however, this pony was much smaller than the rest. Sweetie Belle made her way to the back, setting down her things on the kitchen table.

“Rarityyy!” she called.

“Yes?” Rarity answered.

“Mom and Dad are out doing stuff, so they asked me to spend the afternoon here!”

Rarity chuckled. “Alright, go put your things in your room then come back downstairs. Once I’ve finished with Frederic, we’ll go have lunch!”

Sweetie Belle made her way over to where Frederic and Rarity stood, taking her spot at Rarity’s side. “Frederic, this is my younger sister, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity said with a smile.

“Ooh, he’s handsome. Is he your new coltfriend Rarity?” Sweetie Belle asked, surprisingly interested in knowing the truth.

“What?” Rarity laughed nervously. “Oh, Sweetie Belle.”

“No, just new acquaintances,” Frederic assured.

“From the mouths of babes, right?” Rarity said with a slightly unsettled laugh, trying to play off Sweetie’s comment.

“I’m flattered to be called ‘handsome,’ though.” He nodded to the filly. “Pleased to meet you, Sweetie Belle.”

“Darn! Rarity’s always talking about that weirdo Blueface or whatever his name is. I hear he’s a real jerk!” Sweetie Belle said, stamping a hoof and puffing her cheeks out.

Rarity chuckled a little nervously. “Sweetie Belle, why don’t you run along and get started on your homework. Frederic and I just need to finish up.”

“Aww, I didn’t wanna do homework...” said Sweetie Belle, sulking out of the room.

“Exes?” Frederic asked.

“Not quite...” Rarity said with a small sigh. “We met at the Gala. In case you were curious, she was talking about Prince Blueblood. He was a living nightmare, Frederic. Impolite, self-absorbed, indignant and irreverent to those around him. You were probably unconscious for this, but... he used me as a shield when the food started to fly,” she said, digging her hoof into the floor to restrain her anger.

“That’s... appalling,” Frederic said, looking to Rarity with a small wincing expression. “Well, good riddance, right?”

“Yes,” she said. “Actually glad he isn’t my ex. That’d imply there was ever a thing in the first place.”

“If I may speak candidly, a true stallion walks beside his mare, not before or after her. He loves unconditionally, speaks truthfully, and cares genuinely. At least, that is how my father raised me to be,” Frederic said.

“I’ll bet you’ve got one lucky mare,” said Rarity.

“Well...” said Frederic. “Not at the moment, no.”

Rarity’s ears perked slightly. “Oh? A shame... you’re a rare breed, Frederic,” she said as she adjusted the lapels on his jacket. “If you want, you can leave in your suit, or I can have this folded and hung for you. Whichever is more comfortable,” she said with a smile.

“I think I’d like it hung up,” said Frederic. “Can we put it in a bag? Wouldn’t want to get it dirty on my way out.”


Vinyl leaned against an outdoor table, her eyes almost shut from boredom. Octavia was browsing through a stack of old LP records while a blue stallion sat behind another table.

“Finding anything you like?” he asked.

“Oh, yes!” said Octavia.

“Eh,” said Vinyl. “Stick any of ‘em on a turntable and it makes scratches. All of ‘em the same.”

Octavia turned her head, her eyelids narrowed. “That’s just like you.” She snorted and produced one record. “There are some amazing gems here. Like this one, Baton’s violin concerto.”

“There are lots of violin concertos,” Vinyl dismissed. “What’s so special about this one?”

“This is an extremely rare recording,” said Octavia, hugging the record jacket close. “It’s been out of print for years.”

“Ohhh,” said Vinyl, nodding in mock understanding. “So basically it’s something super-obscure that nopony cares about.” She approached the bins herself. “Let’s see if they have something more interesting...”

She magically ruffled through the albums before floating two of them in front of her. “Ooh, tough choice – they have the Hoof Beats Red Album and The Mustangs Free Ride. What to choose, what to choose...”

“I thought you already had those two,” said Octavia.

“These are in a different format,” said Vinyl. “Sound quality’s different. Collection’s not complete without ‘em. Sides, you’re one to talk,” she snipped. “You’re the one who gets like five different recordings of whatever piece and they’re exactly the same.”

“They are not exactly the same,” Octavia protested. “They’re different renditions by different performances.”

“Ah yes, the most boring kind of cover,” said Vinyl.

“They are not ‘covers,’ Vinyl. They’re reproductions,” Octavia corrected. “They’re different renditions by musicians reinterpreting the music without fundamentally altering the composer’s intent.”

Vinyl snickered. “Reproduction...”

“That’s all you took from that, wasn’t it?” Octavia asked.

“Yup!” Vinyl said. Octavia shook her head. The two mares paid for their records, and made their way to the door. It was at that moment that Octavia caught sight of Frederic leaving the Carousel Boutique, a new suit in hoof.

“Oh, look,” said Vinyl. “Your robot stalker followed you.”

“Shush!” Octavia said, quickly hiding behind the nearest object suited to her size, peering at Frederic from behind it.

“Wait, so now you’re stalking him?” Vinyl mumbled. “How does this work? Mutually consenting restraining orders?”

“No, I’m trying to figure out why he would be leaving the Boutique with a new suit. We don’t have a performance coming up...” Octavia reasoned. She then tapped one hoof to the other. “He must be meeting somepony!”

“I guess. I mean, fancy suits and that sort of thing. It’s like lingerie for you stuffy types, right?”

Octavia looked back at her, an expression so stone-faced it could stop a train. Vinyl found no words that could have changed that expression, so she chose to remain silent.

The two mares continued to tail Frederic, the stallion making odd twists and turns through the town’s roads. Eventually, he came to a stop at a small apartment complex, retrieving his keys from his saddlebag.

“This is fun,” said Vinyl. “We should’ve brought binoculars.” Vinyl then looked more closely at where exactly they were. “Hey... isn’t that where we live?”

Octavia’s jaw dropped. “You mean we’re neighbors and we never even knew!?”


Frederic’s head perked up, hearing a voice he knew all too well. “Was that Octavia just now?” he asked himself, looking around.

Octavia noticed this, and ducked both her and Vinyl’s head down into their hiding place.

“That was a little close...” Octavia said.

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t yelled...” Vinyl pointed out.


Frederic shrugged when he caught no sight of Octavia, but jumped slightly when he heard a yelp coming from a nondescript location. “...Must’ve been the wind...”

Vinyl rubbed her head, Octavia’s hoof shaking slightly. “You earned that one!”

“Ow, ow, ow! That smarts!” Vinyl said, shaking her head slightly.

“I can’t believe we’ve been neighbors... I’ve never seen him in our complex before,” Octavia said. “He must only stay here when we perform here,” she said. “That makes a lot more sense.”

“Oh, gee, you couldn’t have thought of that before you decided to knock my brain around a bit?” Vinyl asked.

“Vinyl, knocking your brain around requires you actually having a brain,” she said with a small smirk.

“Is that why you say I’m ‘bucking your brai-’” Vinyl would have completed her sentence had a hoof not stuffed itself in her mouth.

“Just shut up,” Octavia said, unable to control the wild blush that had sprouted on her face. Vinyl, satisfied, just grinned silently.


Frederic shrugged, heading up the stairs to his apartment. He fiddled with the keys for a moment, then entered, hanging up his new suit in the closet near the front door. He made his way into the kitchen, and retrieved a bottle of his favorite scotch, Dew Mares, setting it on the counter. He gently picked up the high-ball glass that he kept in the cupboard, and placed a few ice-cubes in it. The scotch poured a thick golden-brown in the glass – just like he liked. He carried the glass over to his recliner, and sat down, taking a drink. The thick oak flavor of the scotch swirled in his mouth, going down smoother than silk. Fred gave a contented sigh, feeling warmth fill his stomach. “Celestia bless those Scolts...” he said, raising his glass and taking another swig.

“I wonder if Rarity drinks scotch...” He mused to himself.