“Are ya sure ‘bout this, cousin?”
“Course Ah’m sure.” Applejack replied. “Ya ain’t gonna get a better deal in all of Ponyville than right here!”
We made our way up to the door of what Applejack called the Carousel Boutique, and it did indeed live up to that name. The two story structure was circular with a set of thin poles supporting it from the outside, decorated in a slew of purple and magenta shades. On the second story, the poles were placed through two mannequins, establishing the theme of a carousel.
“This here establishment is owned by a good friend of mine. Just tell her that yer one hundred percent Apple and she’ll take good care of ya.”
I tipped my white ten gallon hat slightly in a traditional gesture of appreciation. “Thank ya kindly, Applejack. Ah don’t know what Ah woulda done ‘bout this competition without yer help.”
Applejack nodded in response. “Think nothin’ of it, cous’, but Ah’m still wonderin’ why ya wanna enter this year instead of playin’ for it like ya usually do. Ya don’t actually win anythin’, and Uncle Second Fiddle is…well, a second fiddle.”
“Just want a change o’ perspective is all. Ah always play fer these things, but Ah never git the chance to dance to it like ya’ll.” That was partially true, but it was more that I was just sick of playing period. There was no doubt that it would be better if I played, but I came here to spend time with family and relax, not do my job like I always do. And since Applejack insisted on driving everypony ragged earlier today, followed by raising the barn with musical accompaniment, I didn’t get that opportunity yet.
“Ah understand.” Applejack replied, “Ah suppose it’s a little unfair of us to ask ya to do it whenever yer here without considerin’ if ya wanted to be in the gosh darned thing in the first place.” She paused for a moment, turning her head towards the road we came from before continuing. “Ah have some errands to do in town before we can set it up, so Ah’ll leave ya in Rarity’s care and meet ya back out here in fifteen minutes, twenty tops.”
“A’right.” I confirmed. Was that the right pronunciation? I wondered, Perhaps I should have just said “Mm’kay” instead.
“Mm’kay.” Darn it… “Remember, just mention that yer mah cous’ and she’ll treat ya like yer her best friend. And don’t get carried away. It’s a square dance competition, not some froo-frooey fancy shmancy ball ‘er somethin’.” She crossed her eyes, making sloppy waving gestures in an attempt to mock upper class ponies.
I forced a laugh. “Ya don’t need to worry ‘bout that none. Ah’ll be faster than a…heard o’ cows stampedin’ through town!”
She blinked at me twice. “Uh…sure.” I needed to work on those. “Just don’t take too long in there.”
“Ah won’t.” I replied. As she made her way down the walkway I added “Thanks again cous’!” She just smiled and nodded. I turned around to open the door and stepped inside, a bell ringing to announce my presence.
Immediately I was welcomed to the sweet scent of lavender. Looking around, I noticed parts of the circular main room were sectioned off by curtains of the same magenta as the exterior. One of the sections was open, revealing a display stand and a set of mirrors to see a design from all directions. Mannequins and racks of clothes decorated the perimeter, each mannequin sporting a different, superbly crafted outfit. I could see a staircase leading to the second floor partially obstructed by a set of curtains, as well as some doors partially camouflaged into the small amount of exposed lavender wall.
On the other side of the room I spotted a white mare with a tail of deep purple fitting a dress to one of her mannequins. She must not have heard the bell when I walked in. I went over to introduce myself.
“Hay there. Ah was wonderin’ if ah could get a dress fer a dance.”
The mare shot up. “Oh, a customer!” She spun around to greet me. Her mane was absolutely elegant, perfectly curled and stylized to give the impression of a mare who knows her way around fashion. “Welcome to the Carousel Boutique, where every garment is chic, unique, and-oh my! What is that stench?!“
No matter how many showers you take, the Apple family farm smell doesn’t leave you for at least a couple of days. “Sorry ‘bout that. Ah’ve been helpin’ out at the apple farm out yonder. It’s our family’s reunion an’ all, an’ Applejack’s mah cousin ya see.”
“Indeed…” She levitated a clothes pin and placed it on her nose, followed by grabbing a scented spray bottle and soaking me with it. “Well, a friend of Applejack’s is a friend of mine I suppose. My name is Rarity.”
I coughed a few times before I could oblige. “They call me Fiddlesticks.”
“Well Ms. Fiddlesticks, how may I be of service to you?”
“Ah need a dress fer a square dancin’ contest. Ah’ve been told not to go overboard, so if Ah could just get somethin’ simple, Ah’ll be out of yer hair lickety split.”
She looked me over once. “Something simple…matching your color scheme?”
My ‘color scheme’ either meant my blue mane and yellow coat, or my red neckerchief and lime green shirt; probably the former. I thought my style was very well put together, but perhaps others didn’t think so.
“Uh, yeah…”
“Hmm…” She kept examining me, deep in thought about what I would look best in. “I’m not sure if I have that on hoof, darling. I’m a designer of complexity and pizazz! Something like that I usually don’t make very often.” She turned to move for a door to her right. “Let me see if it’s something I have in the back room.”
She opened the door to reveal a large walk in closet, doubling as an office if the desk in the corner was any indication. A rainbow of clothes occupied every square of wall, which Rarity began to comb through.
“So tell me about yourself, Fiddlesticks. I’ve talked to quite a few of the Apple family today, but I haven’t heard an accent quite like yours. Where are you from?”
“Oh, Ah’ve been everywhere.” was my go-to response. “Ah get a lil’ bit o’ everythin’.”
“But you must live somewhere, darling. Where is your house located?”
“Uh…” I had a place for this, but what was it again? It had something to do with water. Water…water… Oh right!
“Bridge Water! Yep, good ol’ Bridgewater, if ya’ never heard of it, Ah understand. It’s very far away from here, so nopony has.”
She stopped sifting through the racks of clothes to look at me, one of her eyebrows raised. “I’ve been to Bridgewater, dear. One of my clients lives there, and he insisted that I give a designer’s workshop to inspire more business, but I can assure you that nopony there talks anything like that.”
“Oh, um…” Drat! I thought I made that place up! Quickly, think of something!
“It’s alright dear. If you don’t want to tell me, I won’t pry any further.”
She must have noticed that I was sweating over the question, because she gave me a comforting smile after I relaxed. Her head spun back around to dive back into the clothes rack.
I watched as she looked at all of the clothes she had in the room, none of them seeming to grab her fancy. After a while my gaze drifted off to her desk. It was a mess of documents and pens sprawled all over, with some decorative pictures and knickknacks occupying the side and nearby piece of wall.
Some of the pictures were of her and small unicorn filly who had a mane of pink and purple swirls and a white coat much like hers. I guess Rarity has a daughter, but I didn’t see the lucky stallion in any of the pictures.
Another picture was of Rarity and Applejack with four other ponies, all of them smiling at the camera in various poses. They were composed of a lavender unicorn with darker purple hair, two pegasi, one light blue with messy rainbow hair and the other yellow with long pink hair, and a pink earth pony with a matching cotton candy mane. Strangely, I could have sworn I had seen that last pony from somewhere before.
The last picture demanded my attention. It was taken out of a pamphlet, cut off at the crease. A grey pony with tidy black hair, grey coat, and treble clef cutie mark stood majestically on her back hooves. Her eyes were closed as she played a cello that was taller than she was. The bottom of the paper read ‘See Octavia Perform at the Canterlot Music Hall, June 14-17.’
Rarity was a fan…
This is very bad.
Rarity finished her dress hunt and turned to me. “It appears that I don’t have anything you need in stock but- Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I could feel myself shaking, as well as some perspiration forming on my forehead. I tried to will myself to calm down, but all that probably did was make me look constipated as well. After a deep breath inward I forced a crooked smile.
“A-ah’m fine. J-jus’ a lil’ chilly in ‘ere is all.”
She peaked her head out to look at a thermostat on the wall. “It’s eighty two degrees in here. Are you sure you aren’t coming down with something?”
That works too. “Yeah, Ah might have a case a’ tha’ sniffles.” I snuffed for effect. “But don’t worry none, Ah’m fine. Now what were ya sayin’?”
“I was saying…” She went to grab measuring tape off of a nearby dresser. “I don’t have what you’re looking for in stock, but I will be more than willing to make something for you. I just need to get your measurements and-“
“That’s alright, Ah’ll just take any old dress!” I reached for the nearest thing on a rack and presented it to her. “This’ll be fine. Ah’ll take it.”
She looked at me, then the dress, and winced. “I’m sorry, but orange and brown aren’t your colors. You’re more of a summer than an autumn.” Wrapping the hanger in telekinetic magic, she took the dress from my grip and placed it back on the rack. “It will only take a moment, and I promise you I can get it to you before the dance.”
“Ya’ll don’t have ta go to that trouble.” I backed away from her to try and close the distance between me and the front door. “Ah can just go without a dress. It’s just a family square dance, right?”
“Nonsense!” With tape levitated in front of her, she turned around me to try and take my horizontal length, but I snapped back to face her. She changed directions, and I followed suit to match her gaze. “I insist! As the element of generosity, if a pony comes here looking for a dress, then I will do anything I can to get her the best dress I can muster. Now…please…hold-“
I felt pressure all around my head as she used her magic to keep me from moving. She turned to my side and laid the tape out. That was when she saw it. With a loud gasp, she let go of the measuring tape as well as my head.
“You’re cutie mark!” I turned to put my cutie mark out of view. “It’s a treble clef!”
I tried my best to play it off casually. “Y-yeah, it’s ‘cause Ah’m good at playin’ the fiddle. Mah name’s Fiddlesticks after all.” Why didn't I cover it up or something? I’m such an idiot!
Rarity’s face lit up like a light bulb. “Do you know Octavia? Are you a relative of hers?” She gasped at a realization. “Does that mean Octavia is related to the Apples too? Is she at the reunion?”
“Who’s Octavia? She ain’t nopony Ah ever heard of. Is she special er somethin’?” Great, Rarity’s a huge fan. This is even worse.
“She is only the best classical musician in all of Equestria!” Rarity galloped into the walk in closet again and came back with the picture I saw earlier, floating it up to my face. “Her music is absolutely divine! I listen to her in concert whenever I get the chance!”
“Never seen her b’fore in mah life.”
“Oh…” Rarity looked disappointed at that remark. “You should really hear her music sometime. There’s something magical about it that you just never get tired of.”
Oh I can get tired of it alright.
Rarity stared at the picture as she turned around, but stopped halfway. Her eyes went from the picture to me, then back to the picture, then back to me. It didn't make me feel very comfortable. With a dismissive “Huh…” she went back to the closet to put the picture where it was.
I should have bolted for the door right then, so I did. About half way there I saw a huge white rat jump in front of my exit, its claws and fangs exposed. A surge of fear struck me, forcing me to stop in my tracks. The monster lunged at me with intent to kill, but I ducked just before it could sink its claws into my face, and it instead latched onto my hat. With a shriek I pushed my hat off my head and backed away from it.
“What!? What happened!?” I turned to see Rarity standing right next to me.
“Sweet Celestia what is that thing!?”
“Oh that’s just Opalescence. You don’t need to worry about her. She couldn't hurt a fly.” Rarity moved up to the beast and stroked it with her hoof until it released its grip, purring softly. “Isn’t that right little Opal Wopal?” she cooed. She was a braver pony than I was.
“My hat sure doesn’t think so!” was my response. I walked over to it and picked it up to examine the damage. Several smudges littered the front, but surprisingly there wasn’t a scratch on it. “My father will be furious if I ruin this hat.”
“Oh don’t worry about it, darling.” Rarity assured me, “If there’s any damage I’ll get it fixed free of cha-“ She spun around to look at me, her eyes wide in shock. “You dropped your accent!”
My heart skipped a beat. “What? I-“ I’m still doing it! I feigned a coughing fit. “A- *cough* Ah don’t know wut ya’ll’s talkin’ ‘bout. *cough* But Ah think Ah’m catchin’ a cold, so Ah should prolly go b’fore- Ow!” I was cut off by a sharp pain in my skull. “What was that for?”
Rarity plucked a string of hair from my head with telekinesis and placed it on her hoof for observation. The hair was blue of course, just like the rest of my mane, except it wasn’t completely blue. She followed the string to the root, which shifted to black.
We locked eyes for a long time, neither of us willing to say anything.
Then Rarity’s breathing grew strained and heavy. I could hear her lungs moving faster and faster. Oh Celestia, is she hyperventilating?
“Rarity, please stay calm.”
“She said my name…” Rarity murmured. Her eyes grew as wide as chariot wheels, a crooked grin forming on her face. “S-she’s in my boutique…”
“Please don’t freak out. I’ll sign anything. I’ll play anything!” I felt like I was trying to disarm a bomb.
Rarity’s eye twitched. “I. Am. A. Lady.” she said through clenched teeth, more for her benefit than mine I presume. She started shaking all over. “Ladies…Don’t…” The bomb’s timer just hit zero.
The sound that occurred next wasn’t equine. I shut my eyes and covered my ears in an attempt to muffle the shrill screech that was Rarity’s voice. The fierce beast Opalescence ran for her life, and disappeared up the staircase. My life flashed before my eyes, ending prematurely in a fashion boutique at the hooves of an overly excited fan mare.
Rarity briefly traded screaming at the top of her lungs for the opportunity to breathe, which I took advantage of by shoving my neckerchief in her mouth.
“Please don’t do that.” I repeated. “It’s really annoying and it could potentially alert Applejack. Now I’m going to take my hoof away. Do you promise you won’t scream?”
Rarity nodded, followed by a muffled confirmation I couldn’t understand. I pulled the cloth out of her mouth, and she did what she promised. Instead, she ran to the closet, returning with that picture again, as well as a pen.
“Oh I have so many questions! Where do you get your inspiration? Is Beauty Brass a nice pony off stage? Why do you look like a hoof ball mascot?” She smacked her lips a couple of times. “My goodness! Where has that thing been?”
“Sorry about that…” I replied, but before I knew it she dropped the picture and pen and was at the bathroom grabbing some mouthwash. I followed her to answer her other questions before she was able to spout out more. “I am inspired by Bethooven; Beauty Brass is a very nice pony, if not a little dense at times; and hoof ball mascot? I happen to like these colors.” Taking a moment to look at myself, I added “Although perhaps lime green wasn’t the best idea for a shirt.”
Rarity spit into the sink and placed the mouthwash back into the drawer before facing me. “But your grey coat and pink bow tie were charming and gorgeous. I have a dozen dresses in here that would go well with that.”
“Not for a square dance, though.”
“Oh…” she looked down at the ground in thought. “I suppose they are better suited for a waltz…But that doesn’t answer my question. Why do you look like that?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Other than ponies randomly screaming in my face?”
“Oh!” She made a sheepish smile and blushed. “I’m terribly sorry about that. I’m usually very ladylike.”
“It’s fine…” I assured her. “I look like this and put on a fake accent so my family doesn’t think I’m this stuck-up snob pony from Canterlot who’s too fancy for them. They don’t take very well to that sort of thing.”
Rarity huffed. “I know about that quite well.”
I looked down at the floor. “I just want to spend time with them, but if I’m not Fiddlesticks, they’ll just reject me.”
Rarity gave me an smile. “The Apples may be many things, but rude to family is not one of them. I assure you that if you just tell them, they’ll welcome you with open arms.” Shaking her head, she added “Honestly, I don’t know how you got that idea in your head in the first place.”
“My parents tell me they're shunned by the rest of the family just because they live in Canterlot.”
“Oh…” She frowned at that. “That doesn’t sound like the Apple family I know.”
I looked at the clock. It had been fifteen minutes since I walked in. Oh no! Applejack could be here any second!
“Please don’t tell Applejack.” I begged. “I’ll do anything you want!”
Rarity looked at the ceiling, lulling the proposition over in her head. “Although I don’t approve of why you want to keep your identity a secret…alright.”
“Really?”
“If you give me your autograph.”
“Done!”
“And tickets to your next concert.”
“Fine.”
“And you play at my wedding.”
“What!? Are you even getting married!?”
“I plan to someday!”
I shot her a mean look. “I thought you were the element of generosity.”
She returned it with a sly grin. “I am the element of generosity, dear, not the embodiment of generosity. Now do we have a deal or not?”
I let out a loud grunt to vocalize my disapproval. This pony is mad if she thinks that I-
The bell rang to alert a pony walking inside. “Howdy ya’ll. Ah’m here!”
I nodded my head violently at Rarity, who gave me a reassuring wink in response.
“Apple-“ Still the wrong accent! I cleared my throat before starting again. “Applejack, great timin’! We were just finishin’ up here.”
“Oh yes.” Rarity chimed in. “I was just getting her measurements, and I’ll have a dress for her before the dance.”
“Well that’s mighty kind of ya, Rarity, to make an entirely new dress for mah cousin.”
“Think nothing of it. I’ll probably enjoy making the dress so much that it will feel like you’re doing me a favor.”
“Oh…good.” Applejack replied weakly, picking up on the implication. Rarity levitated her measuring tape and got to work. I grabbed my hat off of the floor and placed it back on my head.
It didn’t appear Applejack’s curiosity was satisfied, however. “So what did ya’ll talk about? You didn’t spend the entire time doin’ business stuff, did ya?”
“Naw,” I began, “we talked ‘bout…um…” Something else I needed to work on was coming up with stuff off of the top of my head.
“Shoes!” Rarity thankfully interrupted. “We were just talking about sparkly, girly shoes.” The mere thought of such a thing made Applejack recoil in horror. “I could go on about them for hours, but I’ll spare you the pain of having to listen to that.”
Applejack sighed in relief. “Whew, thank Celestia for that.”
A few seconds passed where none of us spoke. Rarity busied herself with her work, and I didn’t want to instigate any chance of having either of us slip out my secret. But that left a bored Applejack blankly panning the room in search of something to talk about. Eventually she set her gaze on something on the floor.
“Hay, who’s in this picture?”
My eye twitched. I was lucky (or unlucky) that I didn’t just fall over from a heart attack right there.
Rarity stopped her work to answer before I could do anything stupid. “Oh, she isn’t very important. Just a posh classical musician I like to listen to. I’m sure you have no interest in that either.”
“She’s sure ugly.”
...what? That was very blunt, even for Applejack.
The comment caught Rarity off guard as well. She constantly switched her gaze between Applejack and I, trying to come up with words to respond. I just mirrored her puzzled look and gave a shrug.
“A…A-Applejack, that’s not a very nice thing to say about a pony. Even if she has a lifestyle you don’t agree with you shouldn’t-“
“Just look at that rat’s nest she calls hair. Ah bet little critters live in there at night.”
…I liked my hair…
“Applejack!” Rarity gasped. “That was a very rude thing to say!”
“So?” Applejack looked at her with a blank expression. “It’s not like she’s here or nothin’”
“Even so, I didn’t expect you to be so vulgar about ponies you don’t even know!”
Applejack ignored her. “Ah bet she doesn’t play very good neither.”
“I disagree. I think she’s very talented.” was Rarity’s response.
“Prolly sounds like nails on a chalkboard to all ponies with good taste in music.”
“Wha-? Applejack that’s just mean.”
“She prolly doesn’t sell any seats at her concerts. Bet she plays to an empty room.”
“Applejack I-“
“She starts playin’ in the streets and all the ponies run away scared ‘cause they think Discord came back and-“
“How dare you! I sell all of my tickets and play to a full house every-“ I shoved my hooves in my mouth. Oh Celestia, what did I just do?
Applejack turned to face me, her expression completely unreadable. Rarity and I just looked at her, waiting on held breath for what her reaction could possibly be. She squinted her watering eyes at me, the sides of her mouth twitching. A few giggles escaped her mouth before she completely lost it. Soon she was rolling on the floor, hollering and guffawing uncontrollably. The two of us looked at each other in equal confusion.
“I don’t understand.” I said. “Did you know already?”
Applejack still didn’t have control of herself, but her laughter waned. She wiped a tear from her eye before she was calm enough to say, through stifled giggles, “Didn’t Ah tell ya to meet me outside the boutique?”
“So you’ve been listening to us from outside, huh?” I looked away from her, plastering the most sheepish grin I could. “How much did you hear, then?”
“Well,” Applejack finally calmed down enough to get back on her hoves, “since both of ya screamed loud enough for all of Ponyville to hear, Ah rushed over here ‘bout the time you said we were a buncha jerks that neglected family.” She shoved a hoof in my direction.
“That’s not what I meant!” I defended. “I just meant that my parents haven’t been on good terms with the rest of the Apples.”
“Look, if that’s how yer parents wanna think of it, then fine. We remember it like they acted like they were too good for us, and they isolated themselves.” She put a hoof to her face in thought before continuing. “We’re still talkin’ about Aunt Joules and Uncle Staccato, right?”
I nodded in confirmation.
“Mah granny always said how those two would come to reunions for an hour just to poke fun at our traditions. They said we were ‘uncouth’ and ‘moronic’.”
“Oh…” Those were words they said quite often.
“Point is, they ain’t ‘on good terms with us’ ‘cause they don’t want to be. It has nothin’ to do with the fact that they’re all fancy like.”
“So then why do you make fun of posh ponies if it isn’t because of that?”
Applejack gave me a cheeky smirk and a wink. “Aw c’mon cous’, Ah’m just teasin’ ‘em.” She went over to jab Rarity in the chest. “Shucks, Rarity should know all about that.” Rarity replied by shooting her a dirty look.
“It may be true that many fancy shmancy ponies are stuck-up snobs that can’t be asked to get their hooves dirty,” Applejack continued, “but Ah’ve met some pretty alright fancy ponies in my time.” She jabbed me with a hoof next. “Yer one of ‘em, Fiddles, and Ah’m sure the rest of the family thinks so too.”
“My name is Octavia, actually…” I corrected.
“Awk-Taevia.” she repeated, deep in thought. She smacked her lips a few times, as if trying to see how good the word tasted. Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and made a frown. “Don’t particularly care for it.”
“So you didn’t actually mean those things you said?” Rarity interjected. Applejack shook her head again to confirm. “Applejack, I’m surprised at you. I thought you were the element of honesty!”
She gave Rarity a sly grin that was familiar to both of us. “Ah may be the element of honesty, but ah ain’t the embodiment of honesty.”
I couldn’t help but giggle at the irony of turning Rarity’s words against her. She failed to suppress a smile as well, so she must not have minded that much.
“So then that means I was right!” Rarity flaunted at me. “You’re family doesn’t care if you’re from Appleloosa or Canterlot or Bridgewater, as long as you are a good pony they’ll still accept you.”
“I suppose so.”
“Does that mean yer gonna lose the accent?” Applejack asked, “Seriously, you were tryin’ way too hard with that thing.”
I considered that. They really did believe that the other Apples would accept the real me. Not to mention, I was also sick of trying to keep up that accent.
I nodded and smiled at them. “Perhaps.”
“Glad to hear it!” Applejack cheered. “Ah sure hope ya weren’t thinkin’ of gettin’ some fancy Grand Gallopin' Gala dress, though. Ya might get some odd looks if ya go to a square dance in that.”
The mention of a dress made Rarity jump. “Dress! Right, I was supposed to be working on that.” She snatched her measuring tape and wrapped it around my hooves. “When is the square dance, Applejack?”
Applejack turned to glance at the clock. “Three hours.”
Rarity shot up, her eyes growing wide. “Sweet Celestia! Three hours!?” Sprinting into one of the rooms in the back, she yelled “I’m not even sure if I can make a dress that fast!”
“Thank’s again Rarity!” Applejack called.
Spite flowed through Rarity’s words. “Forget what I said about you not owing me a favor Applejack!”
“Ah don’t remember nothin’ about no favors.” Applejack replied, feigning ignorance. She moved in close to me to whisper something. “C’mon Fiddles, let’s leave Rarity to her work before she starts demandin’ stuff.”
“My name’s Octavia, remember?”
“Ah’m still callin’ ya Fiddles.”
I gestured towards the exit. “You go ahead. There’s something I want to do before I get back to the farm.”
She shrugged. “Well, alright then. Just don’t take too long.” After walking to the door and opening it, she turned around to face me. “Trust me cousin’, they’re gonna love ya.” My response was to just smile and nod at her.
Once Applejack left, I spun around to face Rarity, who had returned with a slew of red and lime fabric material and started sewing them together.
“Rarity, could I make an amendment to my dress request?” I called from behind her.
Rarity stopped sewing. I could see her head shaking, as if it was a volcano about to erupt. She was already volatile from the looming deadline; perhaps asking her for something else was a bad idea at this point.
As soon as I considered that, she turned her head, a look of sincere, almost hysterical happiness on her face.
“What is it, deary?” That was a little unsettling.
I tried to tread softly. “I was wondering if I could just make a tiny change.”
“Are you still playing at my wedding?” Drat! I hoped she forgot.
I sighed before answering in a defeated tone. “Yes, I’ll play at your wedding.”
“Marvelous!” She turned around to continue her work. “Now what would you like?”