//------------------------------//
// 2. A Thousand Rivers Running Past My Door 
// Story: To See The Light 
// by archonix 
//------------------------------//

	02. A Thousand Rivers Running Past My Door

"Well now, that's most of the measurements done. What sort of ensemble were we considering? Something off the shoulder, perhaps? I understand capes are making a return amongst the nobility, but on the other hoof to be the Duchess of Canterlot means leading the herd rather than following it, so perhaps something a little more– Lady Amethyst?"

Rarity lightly tapped a rolled up measuring tape on Sparkler's head. 

"Wake up, darling!"

The younger unicorn snapped her eyes away from the the storm that pelted the windows of her apartment. Lightning flickered in the low cloud, its answering thunder barely heard above the steady roar of falling rain.

"Sorry. I was just thinking." Sparkler shifted a touch, longing to scratch an itch on her side but unable to move thanks to the cats-cradle of measuring tapes wrapped around her body. The structure felt almost obscene, hugging as it did every curve and shape of her form, and yet strangely alluring.

"I can see that. Cel– heaven knows where this storm popped up from, the schedule said there wasn't one due for weeks, but I suppose with everything we've been through in the last few days it's unrealistic to expect perfect organisation." Rarity idly poked a hoof at Sparkler's shoulder as she adjusted her tapes, the apparently accidental motion bringing almost instant relief to the young mare's irritation. "But never mind the weather. We were discussing your outfit."

"Oh. How could I forget."

"I have an absolutely delicious concept in mind already," Rarity continued, oblivious to the sarcasm in Sparkler's voice. "It's only going to take a little tweak to match your mark, which I must say is really rather stunning. Naturally I will have to expend some considerable effort in the execution, but your mother the Princess has so graciously allowed the use of any resources I require from the palace, so I should have your dress ready in plenty of time."

My mother the princess, Sparkler thought. It felt like a single word the way Rarity had said it. She tried to raise a hoof without dislodging the bonds that measured her. "I don't–"

"On the other hoof, perhaps so daring and adventurous a design would be a little too outré for an official investiture of such import. Something more traditional might be appropriate, yes?"

"Miss Rarity–"

"Then again! You are to be invested with the most powerful seat in the land, one would hardly dare appear in anything less than the most exquisite, divine..." A puzzled frown crossed Rarity's features and she turned to face Sparkler full on. "Did you say something darling? I'm afraid I was rather lost in the flow."

"I'm not going through with it."

Rarity's eyes widened a fraction and with a sharp intake of breath she dropped her tape. The designer shook her head and backed away a few steps, eyes surreptitiously swinging back and forth for a convenient couch to collapse on, though nothing presented itself as an easy target.

"Oh my dear child, why ever not? Surely you must understand the responsibility–"

"That's just it, I don't want the responsibility! I'm not a duchess!"

"I see."

Rarity picked up her tape and looped it around Sparkler's neck. With just the steady patter of rain for accompaniment she began to hum as she made a note of the measurement before returning to fuss with the other tapes. Now and then she would glance at Sparkler with an odd frown, only to look away when she realised she was being watched.

"Well I do believe that's all of it. When we're done here I'll have a look at Dinky since I'm sure she's grown quite a bit in the last year." The tapes whipped away from Sparkler and into a series of neat rolls that Rarity tucked away in her bag. "You've lost a little weight since last time. University taking its toll?"

"I guess."

"It must be so terribly lonely spending so much time away from your family like that. Heaven knows when I went to university I missed mine dreadfully." She frowned and paused for a moment to tap her chin. "Though I really couldn't tell you why."

Rarity continued humming as she rearranged her makeshift workshop, laying out a fresh set of order sheets from some apparently limitless supply hiding amongst her equipment, to which she added a few details with a flourish of her pen.

"I'm used to it," Sparkler said, watching as Rarity worked. She wandered over to a couch and sat down while rarity continued with her work. She had set up a portable drafting table and was casually marshalling a small squadron of pencils around her head while she pondered a book of fabric samples. "I mean, I spent most of my life in an orphanage and you don't really make 'connections' in a place like that, so a couple more years away from home is hardly gonna hurt."

"How very tragic," Rarity mused, flashing Sparkler a suitably morose and caring glance before turning back to her design. Pencils flashed through the air and struck the page with astounding ferocity. "Yes, something with a little diamond motif here and there. How do you feel about those capes, dear?"

"They look silly."

"Perhaps one would be a little too much. Yes, something understated, yet adventurous. Sleek, practical, yet telling the world here I am and I sparkle. Yes, yes this is wonderful! If nothing else this will make a fine graduation dress."

"But– wha?"

Rarity turned from the drawing. Somehow she'd found time to perch a pair of spectacles on her snout and now she peered at Sparkler over their ornate red rims, one eyebrow raised in query. "Something the matter, darling?"

"I– I thought you'd try and talk me into it. The Duchess thing, I mean." Sparkler hung her head. She heard Rarity place her pencils on the table and a moment later the couch shifted as the designer sat down next to her.

"Why ever would I do that?"

"It's kinda a big deal." She felt a gentle hoof on her shoulder and fought the urge to shrug it off. "I figured that's the reason mom brought you here."

"Oh darling no!" Rarity tossed her mane with a grace that would have made the most cynical of fashion critics burst into tears. She took one of Sparklers hooves in her own and looked her square in the face. "I would never presume to talk you into something you didn't want! Of course I freely admit the initial draw was a chance to work with the nobility, especially when the noble in question was a pony with whom I was already acquainted in some manner. Nothing says you've made it big in this industry more than a personal request from the ruler of the whole country, but that isn't the reason I'm doing this."

"It isn't?"

"Of course not! Why the moment I set eyes on you I said to myself, Rarity darling, if you let this one get away without giving her the dress she deserves you'll never be able to look yourself in the eye again. You would make a herd of fashion models look drab if you stood anywhere near them! How could I live with myself if I didn't take the chance to wrap you up in one of my creations? And now I have the excuse! Isn't it marvelous?"

Her piece said, Rarity slipped from the couch and to resume her work. With her pencils poised, she looked over her shoulder at Sparkler.

"If you don't mind me asking, dear, what's your talent?"

"Writing. I'm a writer."

"No no dear, your talent. Your sundorcræft as those anachronistic rock farmer relatives of Pinkie Pie call it. Unless diamonds are some sort of euphemism for the written word, writing is your chosen occupation rather like design is mine."

"Oh. I thought– I thought dressmaking was your talent. You're so good at it."

"Thank you dear, but no, I design because I enjoy it. My talent is the ability to find big shiny beautiful jewels hiding under the dirt, which just happens to fit perfectly with the work I love to do. Speaking of which, idea!" The pencils began their work again, scratching at the page like a demented cat and moving faster than Sparkler could follow. "It took me a long time to realise that a precious jewel can be more than just a rock. But we're losing the point, how did you find yours?"

Sparkler pressed her hooves together and stared down at the floor lest she risk meeting Rarity's gaze. It was a question she'd never wanted to answer.

"Dunno," she mumbled eventually, still avoiding eye contact with Rarity.

"Excuse me?"

"I said I don't know! I never knew. My mark just appeared one day when I was a filly, but nopony knew what I'd done to get it."

"Oh. Oh my, darling, I'm so sorry, I never meant to–"

Sparkler waved a hoof, dismissing the apology before it could be finished. "Its fine, I don't think about it. As long as I've got mom and Dinky it doesn't matter."

"Perhaps," Rarity allowed. She laid her pencils down again and lifted up her work for a closer examination, not noticing when her tongue crept out of the side of her mouth. Sparkler had seen Twilight doing the same thing and wondered if it was some sort of shared tic. "Oh this will never do. Away with you!"

The paper fluttered over Rarity's shoulder and fell to the ground at Sparkler's hooves, where it curled over on itself like a message scroll. While Rarity set to work on a new design Sparkler nudged the paper with a hoof, unfurling the white sheet to reveal a design that wouldn't have looked out of place in a high-class fashion journal. And she was throwing this away?

"It's beautiful," the younger mare said quietly. "Why–"

"You are beautiful, that is merely adequate." The way Rarity spat the word made it seem like the worst possible insult she could think of, as if somehow adequacy was inferior to all other states. She snorted. "I'd rather die than see you wearing that mess!"

"But– wait, you think I'm beautiful?"

"Of course!" Rarity's grin was as wide as her face but she continued working all the same. "Darling, you'd give my own dear friend Fluttershy a run for her money and she's one of the most elegant and graceful mares I've ever had the pleasure to work with. Why you simply sparkle dear. Like–"

She turned again, work forgotten as she looked Sparkler up and down. The grin was gone too, replaced with a carefully appraising frown and Sparkler wondered if she'd done or said something wrong, though she couldn't work out how there was any wrong in complimenting another's work. Even if they did think it was terrible.

"Rarity–"

"Like a jewel," Rarity said, head tilting to one side as she stared at Sparkler. "No wonder you stand out. You probably got your mark for being a head above the other fillies. Darling, you were born to be worshipped!"

"Are you trying to tell me that my special talent is being looked at?"

"Is there anything wrong with that?" Rarity's pencils began to move again, moving in tightly regimented formation toward a clean sheet of paper.

"Seems a bit self-indulgent to me," Sparkler shot back. "What sort of talent is 'being pretty' meant to be?"

"What sort of talent is 'bubbling'?"

"Hey, you leave mom out of this!"

"Lady Amethyst, I am making a point now, so please do be quiet and listen." Rarity sat down opposite Sparkler. She took off her glasses, allowing herself a luxuriant sigh as she tossed her mane once or twice for show. "Now let me ask you something very personal. Do you know what Derpy's talent is?"

"Ditzy."

"Really? She told me– well that's not important. Do you know?"

Sparkler snorted and made to answer, only to realise that she'd never been told. And she'd never asked either. In fact the more she thought about it, the more she realised that she had absolutely no idea what her mother's talent could be. Breathing underwater? 

"I guess not."

"It's a tricky one, I'll grant you that. At the time I was still worried about asking in case I appeared rude and it took me years to work it out." Rarity settled back on the couch and closed her eyes for a moment as she spoke. She smiled. "When I first met your mother she'd just crashed through my window and made a complete and utter mess of my shop. It was a rather harsh introduction and unfortunately it did not display either of us in a particularly pleasing light. Yet the next day, when I went to apologise for my terrible behaviour toward her she just brushed it off as if I'd done nothing wrong. Of course I couldn't leave it at that so I made her a really rather splendid set of flying goggles with a matching scarf to make up for it. She wanted to pay for them."

"That does sound like mom," Sparkler replied. Rarity pursed her lips and nodded.

"Quite so. And it made me believe that perhaps her talent was some ability to be extremely forgiving, which is quite an admirable trait in itself although it has nothing to do with bubbles as such. You see I still thought of special talent as only talent, even though my own talent had little directly to do with what I truly enjoyed and even less to do with the talents I employ for a living."

"I thought you designed these 'magnificent creations' for a living."

"Oh darling, do pay attention!" Rarity pressed a hoof to her forehead and huffed quietly. "What are they teaching in schools these days? My day-to-day work is catering to the horrendous whims of the idle rich and producing those wonderfully sweet yet generic pieces for the more mundane customer. Design of the masterpieces for which I am famous is my art, though it is admittedly very lucrative at times, and finding jewels is my talent. It's a three-way split, you see?"

"I guess so."

"Now." Rarity took a moment to compose herself again, smoothing her hooves across the couch as she took a deep, calming breath. "What I'd encountered was tangentially related to your mother's talent, but it wasn't the entirety of it. Every so often I'd find some part of her that seemed to be her talent but it never really fit until I stepped back one day and thought about the common theme. Bubbles!"

"Buh– wha?"

"She floats, darling! Every time some awful situation seems like it's going to pull her down she just floats right out of it like a cloud of bubbles. Take Dinky for example, any other mare might well have faced the prospect of raising a foal alone with dread, or at least a very healthy sense of trepidation. Why I can barely stand to have Sweetie Belle around the place for a few days." Rarity's eyes focussed somewhere behind Sparkler and her face seemed to age several years all at once. "The thought of having to raise her and those two monsters she calls 'friends' for my entire life–"

She shook her head and the horror seemed to fall from her like snow from a quivering tree branch. Rarity smiled once again. "I'm sorry dear, where was I?"

"Dinky?"

"Ah, of course! The little s-sweetie," Rarity replied. She seemed to blank out for another moment before continuing. "As I said, any other mare would have been daunted by the prospect, but your mother just floated serenely on and then went right on to adopt you into the bargain."

"But–"

"She floats, darling. Her talent allows her to rise above. It makes her strong." Rarity jumped from her seat and bounced – literally bounced – back to her work with a foal-like giggle. "So you see now?"

"Not really."

Thunder rolled through the darkening storm as Rarity resumed her design work once again. She barely slowed as she glanced at Sparkler, eyebrows raised and a slight downward curl to her lips.

"My point is that your mother's talent is not even remotely what it appears to be at first glance. And your talent is not being 'pretty', it's being noticed. Ponies pay attention to you. They're drawn to you like few others and that, my dear, is a rare gift. Your being beautiful is a bonus, you could be ugly as a lump of granite and they'd still hang on your every word." Pencils skittered and scratched at paper a final time and Rarity held her latest design up with a flourish and a rather conveniently timed flash of lightning. "Et voila!"

Sparkler moved to look at the page. It wasn't a dress. It was more of a declaration, a paean to the dressmaker's art. Somehow Rarity had taken the idea of beauty and condensed it down into about a dozen sharply defined lines that seemed to speak to Sparkler's soul, though what they spoke about she wasn't entirely sure. She carefully took the drawing from Rarity's magic and pulled it close to her face.

"I can't accept this."

"Oh nonsense! I'd happily give you this for free, though fortunately for my balance book the Crown is paying for all my expenses. No matter what you decide I can at least leave with the knowledge that you are wearing it because you, my dear, are the jewel that makes dress this complete."

Sparkler lifted the drawing for a closer look. She could see a definite likeness of herself in the rapidly sketched pony, right down to the shape and style of her mane. Somehow the dress it was wearing made the whole thing seem complete. She traced a hoof over the figure and marvelled at how perfect it was.

"Miss Rarity, what would you do if you were in my place?"

"Why I would accept immediately, of course!"

"But what about your job? Wouldn't you hate giving that up?"

"Giving up my work?" Rarity frowned and tapped her chin. She leaned toward Sparkler as if examining her for a blemish. "Is that what this is about?"

"I liked university," Sparkler said. She finally, reluctantly put the drawing down. "I wanted to be a writer."

"Oh my dear, whoever said you would have to give up university?"

"What?"

"Lady Amethyst, please think about this for a moment. You'd be the Duchess of Canterlot, quite possibly the most powerful pony in the entire country. You could do just about anything you wanted! Why the only pony who could realistically stop you attending university would be the Princess and I rather suspect you have some influence there, yes?"

"But nobody ever said–" Sparkler pressed a hoof to her face and let out an exasperated sigh. "I never asked."

"I thought as much."

"Mom probably thought I'd figure it out for myself. Oh I feel so dumb."

"I expect it was hope rather than anything nefarious," Rarity replied with a strange little smile. "She abhors anything even remotely underhoofed in my experience."

Rarity turned back to her work to resume sketching. Every now and then she would pull a sheaf of drawings from her bags to leaf through, or flick through one of the swatches floating around her head. Finally her frantic scribbling slowed to something a normal pony could follow and she leaned toward Sparkler with another smile. "Lady Amethyst, be a dear and bring your sister out would you?"

"Oh, Miss Rarity, about that, I'd prefer if you called me Sparkler."

"Why thank you Sparkler. I'd be honoured." 

Sparkler smiled weakly as she trotted toward the bedroom she shared with Dinky. When she reached the door she paused and turned to look at Rarity again. The designer was staring back and forth between a selection of drawings, all designs fitted to a foal about Dink's age.

"Rarity?"

"Hmm?"

Sparkler took a step back toward the designer. "Would you be there? I-I mean at wherever I wear my dress. Would you like to come?"

"Of course dear, I would be delighted to attend! I always take every opportunity to view my creations in their final setting, though I so rarely get the chance these days. If, hypothetically speaking, you were to assent to your investiture then I might have to ask you for a small favour before I could attend." She took off her glasses and gave Sparkler a shy smile. "You see, it appears somepony forgot to extend me an invitation. Surely just an oversight, but you can see the problem this presents."

"Well, I suppose I could–" Sparkler frowned. When had she made that decision? She shook her head and quickly retreated into the bedroom before Rarity could say anything more.

The room was filled with light, though the windows were still darkened by the ever-present storm. When Sparkler look up she found a half-dozen tiny balls of werelight flitting around the ceiling like fireflies. Dinky was curled up on the bed with one of the books Twilight had left for her, oblivious to the lightshow she'd created overhead.

"Hey Dink." Sparkler trotted up to her sister and gently nuzzled her cheek. "Get your snout out of that book."

"Aww, but I gotta finish this for Twilight!"

"You can finish it after. Miss Rarity's here to measure you for a new dress."

Dinky squeaked her surprise and leaped to her hooves, her studies forgotten in a heartbeat. "Is it like the one she made for me last year? That was awesome!"

"Probably."

With another squeak Dinky hopped from the bed and trotted out of the room with her nose held high in the air, leaving Sparkler to trail in her wake. The little unicorn was already fussing around Rarity by the time Sparkler managed to catch up. The poor seamstress seemed to have belatedly remembered what she was in for as she gave Sparkler a pleading look.

"Dinky, statue!"

"Oh!" The little filly locked her legs and theatrically clamped her mouth shut, cheeks bulging as she held her breath. She looked up at her elder sister with wide eyes. "Mmf mf?"

Sparkler put on the most serious face she could muster. "Perfect."

"Oh thank you dear, I really don't know what I would have done. Now little miss, it seems you're going to need at least two outfits." Rarity's measuring tapes snapped into a web that had snared Dinky in moments. The little filly's eyes widened and she let out a nervous squeak as the tapes pulled tight. "One for your presentation to the court, and one for your sister's... event. Whatever that may be."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess I should get you those tickets or whatever they're called." Sparkler eyed Rarity, tried to discern what the designer was thinking behind her professional façade. As she worked on Dinky, Rarity's eyes returned Sparkler's gaze. There was just the hint of a smile at the corners of her eyes.

"Is this gonna be for your vesty chair thing?"

"I–" Sparkler took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"Cool!"

"Yeah." Sparkler waited for her sister to be distracted by Rarity's ministrations before slowly walking to the window. The same window Twilight had almost thrown her out of a few days earlier, or at least that's how it had felt at the time. With the way the rain pelted the glass it seemed as if she should feel some sort of melancholy sadness, but if Sparkler felt anything it was peace. The decision was made, for better or worse, and all that was left to her was to claim the crown.

She could see almost the whole of Canterlot from here. Wrapping her mind around the thought that she technically owned the entire thing was proving to be quite a challenge. That she could go from the daughter of a humble mail mare to– but that was beginning to sound cliché and she would be damned if she'd call herself a writer and tolerate anything like that in her own thoughts. 

Sparkler found herself staring at the narrow spire of Canterlot University's main campus. Apparently she owned that too. She owned everything she could see. Anything she wanted was suddenly hers for the taking, if only she had the will. Perhaps she could get used to it after all.

Perhaps it would be fun.