The rain that had started when Rarity and Fleur were leaving the Magical Hat lasted much longer than anypony had expected it to and, to everypony’s disappointment, it quickly became clear that while the Weather Team may have started the storm, they were no longer in control of it. Rain continued to pour down onto the capital city as the sun rose the next day and the citizens of Canterlot all quickly came to a firm and unanimous decision: this was the last straw for Captain Cloudflair. Complaints were filed rapidly by seemingly everypony in Canterlot and, by the time the storm had reached its second full day, Captain Cloudflair had been relieved of his position and sent back to Cloudsdale for re-evaluation. His former second in command, a mare named Peregrine who had successfully led the dangerous Everfree Patrol for years, had become his replacement by the third day and she immediately took it upon herself to rally the disheartened weather ponies and get this storm under control. Her statement to the city in the newspaper had been one of apology for her predecessor followed quickly by a confident statement that she and her new team could mop up the out of control storm in less than a day. The citizens had been skeptical after Cloudflair’s lackluster performances, but the newly promoted Captain Peregrine had been absolutely true to her word: the storm had broken around midnight on the third day and, as dawn shed its brilliance over the rain-soaked city, the skies were crystal clear for the first time in half a week. Ponies rejoiced as if they had been saved from certain destruction as the golden rays of Celestia’s sun lit their homes with warmth and the Canterlot Weather Team’s new leader won herself an important first victory against the forces of nature.
Rarity, however, did not join in the celebration of the sun’s return. In fact, she found her mood soured dramatically at its return to the world. The rain had kept the majority of her clients from coming to pick up their garments and that time to herself had allowed Rarity to make a much faster recovery than if she had been inundated with customers. The first day she had been a sobbing mess who had barely been able to pull herself together to deal with the scant half-dozen ponies who had ventured out into the rain and she doubted she would have been able to do even that much without the help of the pony that was quickly becoming her best friend: Fleur de Lis. Fleur had insisted on going practically everywhere with Rarity, including the Boutique, on the grounds that “the last thing a mare needs after a fight with her love interest is to be left alone”. That had been Fleur’s sentiment and, in spite of the rain and Rarity’s denials that she needed such a thing, the other mare had been true to her word. She had been there for Rarity to talk with, to vent to and, perhaps most importantly, to keep Rarity from falling away into a bottomless pit of despair as she had begun to. By the second day of the storm, Rarity had regained much of her composure. It had still been a hard day for Rarity and they didn’t speak about Octavia or what had happened, but as Fleur had said, “That will come in time.” The older unicorn had insisted that Rarity calm herself for several days before they spoke about the incident and Rarity hadn’t protested one bit – after all, why would she want to talk about such a glaring error in her own judgment? The third day passed without incident and, by the time the storm finally broke on the morning of the fourth day, the designer had strapped bandages across her emotional wounds and almost returned to her normal attitude. In spite of Fleur’s excellent support, however, Rarity’s spirits had dimmed dramatically at the return of the sun because with the sun came talking about Octavia… and her mistakes.
I never thought I’d miss the rain so much, she thought sardonically as she sat at Fleur’s dining table, her forelegs folded on the surface in front of her. The rain had held the city in a state of semi-permanence for its duration, but it had done much more than just keep her customers away. It had also kept one particular pony at his home – a stallion who was going to want to know exactly what had happened – and that meant an explanation.
Now, that very stallion sat across the table from her, his teacup levitating halfway between his saucer and his lips, his face calm and unreadable as Rarity’s story finally drew to a close.
“…and that’s when Fleur and I came home,” the unicorn finished quickly, her ears held tightly against her head. “I didn’t think that Octavia would much care to see me again that night, so I thought it would be best.” She squeezed her eyes shut as the retelling of that night caused a pit to open up in her stomach. The past three days had been sad and lonesome for the designer, but somehow reliving the events that had taken place in that alley brought back all of the insecurities that had become synonymous with the rain. “I haven’t seen or heard from her since,” she muttered as she opened her eyes once more, “though I’d say that’s probably a blessing.”
Fancy Pants watched her for a long moment before casting a sideways glance at Fleur and settling his teacup back to the table, its contents untouched. He let out a gentle sigh and turned his gaze back to Rarity, a smile touching his lips. “I’d say it probably IS a blessing,” he agreed after a moment. “It sounds like both of you were a bit out of sorts that night and it can take a few days for emotions like that to settle down.” Rarity snorted half-heartedly before turning her gaze back to the bowl that sat in front of her.
“A bit out of sorts,” she grumbled with a snort at the bowl. Fleur had made the most delicious oatmeal for everyone that morning, but despite the earthy sweetness and delectable cinnamon scent wafting up from the bowl Rarity hadn’t been able to eat more than a few spoonfuls. “It was more than a ‘bit out of sorts’, Fancy. We actually yelled at each other! Right there in that alley.” The unicorn winced at the memory and in spite of herself she felt tears well up behind her eyes. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she never wanted to speak to me ever again.”
Even saying those words made Rarity shudder and the tremor caused her skin to crawl from her spine to her neck. To never speak to her again… she thought morosely. That would be the worst thing that I could think of, but it’s the inevitable outcome of a fight like the one we had, really. I mean, why in Equestria would she want to have anything to do with me after that? That very thought had been the one that had haunted her every waking moment in the past three days and it still hadn’t become any easier to deal with.
After a moment of introspective silence, Fancy Pants smiled at her and nodded his head. “Yes, I suppose that would certainly be one way to react to that situation.” His eyes darted to Fleur and back to Rarity before his smile quirked at the corners. “After all, isn’t that what your friends back in Ponyville would do?”
The statement was so unexpected that it took Rarity a moment to realize what he’d said and, when the meaning of his words had finally sunk in, it sparked shock and surprise in the unicorn. “What?” Rarity’s ears perked up as her head rose from her folded legs, her nose wrinkling indignantly. “Absolutely NOT! My friends would NEVER do something like that!”
Not that we haven’t come close, she thought as she glared daggers at Fancy Pants, but he doesn’t need to know that!
To her surprise, however, Fancy didn’t seem to be alone in his questioning of her friends’ loyalty. Across the table, Fleur pushed her own empty bowl away from herself as she arched an eyebrow at Rarity, her expression carefully neutral. “Never, Rarity?” she asked. “Not even if you got into a horrible fight with one or more of them?”
Fancy’s left eyebrow raised quizzically as Rarity’s mouth opened and closed once, then twice, as she struggled to rebut their attacks on her friends. But why are they bringing up my Ponyville friends in the first place? She wondered as she struggled to make her words actually rise in her throat. I mean, they don’t have any bearing on this situation–
Suddenly, Rarity sat up a bit straighter in her chair, her eyes narrowing as she frowned, first at Fleur, then at Fancy Pants, the meaning behind their question suddenly leaped into perspective. “I see what you’re doing,” she said carefully, her right hoof rising from the table as she pointed it at Fleur. “I see what you’re doing, but my friends are completely different from Octavia in this matter.” She shifted in her seat and folded her front legs across her chest defensively. “My friends in Ponyville… we’ve all been through difficult adventures together,” she said quietly, “trials and tribulations that have made our friendship stronger and stronger. But Octavia..?” She snorted breathily. “Octavia and I have three weeks of time together at best. Why would she–,” Rarity’s words stuck in her throat as images of the cellist rose in her mind, but after a moment, she gave her head a shake and managed to plow on. “Why would she even bother giving me a second thought after a night like that?”
“Why indeed?” Fancy asked as he levitated his teacup into the air once more, his expression so conversational that Rarity couldn’t help but squint at him in suspicion. “Why would a pony you barely know want to have anything more to do with you after such a fight, hmm?” He took a sip from his cup, his eyes betraying the disinterest in his voice as he watched her carefully over the cup’s rim. Rarity sighed and rolled her eyes, but before she could repeat that Octavia WOULDN’T want to have anything to do with her, Fleur leapt into the silence, her eyes bright as she met Rarity’s gaze.
“I think that’s the wrong question, Fancy Pants,” she said quietly. “I think the question is: why do YOU want to have anything more to do with HER, Rarity?” She leaned forward slightly. “Perhaps you should answer that question first.”
Rarity blinked, her ears flicking back towards her head at the sudden shift of topic. “Wh-what?” she gasped. “I… well, I mean–,”
“Yes, quite right, Fleur,” said Fancy Pants, his smile quirking so pointedly that it almost became a smirk. “Perhaps answering that question would help you make a properly informed decision, Rarity.” His magic lit up once again and, this time, it moved his cup and saucer forward on the table so that the stallion could lean forward, his eyes full of knowing. “So tell us, Rarity: why would you want to have anything more to do with a mare who said such distasteful things to you?”
The unicorn’s gaze darted from one pony to the other, her indignation at their earlier question suddenly inverting into a profound sense that she had been utterly and completely trapped. Oh these two are good… She watched her two friends alternately for several long moments, her thoughts jumbling up behind her eyes in their hurry to be sorted and said. A week ago, she would have answered without a second thought: Because she’s my friend. It was an easy answer, and certainly one that could avert this whole situation, but even as she tried to say it, her throat seemed to veto it into oblivion. She frowned, her mind searching for another acceptable answer. Because she needs me, was another one that she could use, but truthfully she didn’t feel like she knew Octavia’s mind as well as she thought she did anymore. I… I suppose I could lie, she thought, but even as she thought it, she rejected the idea. Even if she could lie convincingly to these two – and I highly doubt that I could – would she really want to lie to her friends? She gave herself a mental shake. Of course you don’t want to lie to them! Don’t be a nitwit, Rarity! You’re… you’re just going to have to tell them the truth. It was the only option, but it was a truth that Rarity had been denying for the past three days – a truth that she had hidden away to spare herself the worry about an inevitable future conflict. Finally she let out a low, defeated groan and plopped her head down onto her folded legs with a thump that shook the table.
“Because–” she muttered, her eyes fixed on the woodwork of the table beneath her head, “–because she means just as much to me as any of my friends in Ponyville… and I would never let an argument like that stand between myself and Twilight, or Applejack, or Rainbow Dash…”
“My my, that sounds like a rather strong bond the two of you must share,” said Fancy with a nod. “But that doesn’t exactly answer my question. Friends can enter and leave our lives, Rarity, and sometimes there isn’t anything we can do about it. Why do you feel your friendship with Octavia is different from those that we lose?” At the mere mention of losing friendship, Rarity’s head shot up from her safe haven of folded limbs, her eyes narrow and her ears flat against her head.
“Octavia and I will never lose each other!” she snapped, her voice clipped and sharp. “Because we’re in lo–,” the word touched her lips and the taste of it caused Rarity to freeze where she was. Her expression melted from the mask of irritation that Fancy had coaxed forth into a miasma of confusion, desperation, and pleading. “I…I just couldn’t bear to lose her,” she whispered, her bottom lip quivering as the hole that had resided in her chest for the past three days returned with a vengeance. Fancy Pants watched her closely for a moment, his smile dimming into a gentle shadow of its former inquisitive self and Rarity felt her eyes well up with tears at the tender understanding that she saw in his face.
“Because you’re in love?” he finished quietly. Rarity felt her heart leap at the word, in spite of the pit in her stomach, and she nodded vigorously as her throat tightened.
“Y-yes,” she managed to squeak. “Yes… because we’re in love. Th-that’s why I’ve forgiven her for what she said to me.” Her eyes suddenly filled with the tears that had threatened her earlier and, before she could stop them, they were spilling down her cheeks as she choked out her words. “Th-that’s why I… I would do a-anything to m-make this right.” She sniffled loudly and, before she could even blink, Fleur was sitting in the chair next to her, one leg wrapped around Rarity’s shoulders consolingly as she smiled gently.
“So, you’ve forgiven Octavia for everything she said?” she asked softly. Rarity sniffled again and nodded.
“O-of course I have. How could I n-not forgive her?”
Fleur’s smile softened even further as she leaned forward and pressed her head against Rarity’s own, their manes mingling as she gave the designer a supportive nuzzle. “Then why do you seem to think that Octavia hasn’t already forgiven you?”
Those simple words struck a chord deep within Rarity, a burst of sunlight into her maelstrom of emotions that caused her tear-filled eyes to widen in surprise. “Why… why would she do that?” she whispered and, though she had intended her words to be dripping with disdain, they came out tinged with hope. “Why in Equestria would she ever forgive me for saying–” Rarity winced “–saying the things that I said?” Fleur chuckled softly and squeezed Rarity firmly with her leg.
“Because you share a common bond,” she whispered. “You cannot be in love with somepony without the feeling being reciprocated, can you?” Rarity pulled away from Fleur and sat up straight, her eyes widening as Fleur’s bright gaze met her own. “You know that I’m right, Rarity,” she giggled, a smile bursting across her lips and growing as she spoke. “Love is the reason you worked so hard in your shop, love is the force that wrenched control of your emotions away from you at a critical moment, and love is the reason that you are so able to forgive Octavia now.” Fleur’s eyebrows arched. “And if there is one thing that I know, Rarity, it is that you cannot have forged a love so bright on your own and that, if you did not forge it on your own, then Octavia has no doubt forgiven you – just as you have forgiven her.”
Now, Rarity’s eyes swelled with tears of a different kind and she could not keep her bottom lip from quivering yet again. “B-but... but why did I lose control in the first place?” she whimpered. “I… I don’t do that! A-and how can I trust something that m-makes it so hard to control my emotions?”
“Love is stronger than anything you’ve dealt with in the past, Rarity,” Fancy Pants said with a nod. “Any other emotion pales in comparison to love’s strength – it is a raging river compared to the swimming pool you’ve been paddling about in and has the strength of a rising sea compared to a river. It is greater and more powerful than anything you’ve dealt with before and you may never be able to fully control its ebbing and flowing tides.” Now, it was Fancy’s turn to smile knowingly and, with a hoof, he removed his monocle so that he could gaze unobstructed at Rarity. “But love is, above all, a uniting force. It unites two hearts into something stronger than they could ever hope to be on their own and in doing so it fosters trust, honesty, loyalty, compassion, and most of all, forgiveness.” He chuckled and gestured with his monocle. “Of course an apology will be in order, no doubt – that’s still required, I’m afraid, no matter HOW strong your love is for another pony – but after that, my dear, I believe you may be surprised.”
Rarity found herself leaning towards Fancy Pants, her eyes wide. “And do you really think Octavia will forgive me?” she whispered, her right hoof rising to clutch Fleur’s hoof as it rested on her shoulder. Fancy smiled, but after a moment, he shrugged noncommittally and replaced his monocle back where it belonged.
“Very little about this kind of situation can be put into certainties. I cannot tell you that Octavia will forgive you, but I do know that if you don’t try to set things right, things never will be right.”
“And… and do you think things can be ‘right’ again? Can… can things go back to the way they were between us?” Rarity felt as though all of the blood in her body were rushing away from her head as hope rose in her chest for the first time in three days and clashed dramatically with the overwhelming amalgam of sorrow and self-loathing that dominated her. “Do you think that maybe, just maybe, I can fix this to make it as though it never happened?”
To her horror, Fancy Pants sighed and shook his head slowly. “Unfortunately, Rarity, I don’t believe you’ll ever be able to be quite the same as you were before. Disagreements such as yours… well, they forever change the way that one pony looks at another, for better or for ill.” He took a deep breath and looked to Fleur, who gave Rarity’s shoulder a comforting squeeze even as the hope in the designer’s heart suddenly flickered and threatened to blink out. That’s it, then, she thought despairingly. We’ll… we’ll never be able to be what we were… The clouds of despair rose over the waning light, seemingly determined to snuff it out forever, but before the roiling blackness could even come close to the fragile beacon, Fleur’s voice drew Rarity’s attention.
“But that’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Fleur said, picking up as if she and Fancy had rehearsed it. The taller unicorn shifted so that she sat closer to Rarity and gave her an encouraging smile. “Think about it, Rarity. Before this, you had an idealized version of Octavia, a version of her that may or may not have existed: a perfect, flawless version of her that could never live up to your expectations. Now that the two of you have had this fight, you know one another even better than you did before.” Fleur’s smile grew and she squeezed Rarity’s shoulders with her leg. “And knowing one another better is NEVER a bad thing.”
Rarity watched her friend closely for a moment, her mouth open slightly as Fleur’s words slowly sank in. An idealized version of Octavia; actually, that doesn’t sound too far off from what I was doing, she thought and no sooner had the words flitted across her mind than the flickering light within the maelstrom solidified and began to glow with a warm, forgiving radiance. It didn’t grow any bigger, but that didn’t matter to Rarity just then. She could feel its glow, the rejuvenating resonance of hope that pushed the clouds of her darker emotions away even if it wasn’t quite strong enough to banish them completely.
The unicorn felt her eyes begin to ache as tears threatened her once more, but before they managed to join their friends as wetness on Rarity’s cheeks she sniffled loudly and wiped a hoof firmly across her eyes. “Well,” she said, clearing her throat before returning her hoof to her side. “I suppose that means I know what I have to do.” She turned and offered Fleur a thankful smile and, with a grin, Fleur leaned forward and bumped her head against Rarity’s. “If I want to have a chance, I have to apologize to her personally and hope that she forgives me.” She turned her eyes back to Fancy Pants and, for the first time that morning, Rarity felt at least a little like her old self again. “And I’ll do it when she comes to pick up her dress. Hers is one of the last to be picked up and, with today being the last day that the Boutique is officially open for business, she’ll have to come get it today.”
Fleur sat back and gave Rarity a subtle frown. “But Rarity, what if she doesn’t come to get her dress?”
“Oh don’t you worry,” said Rarity with a knowing smile. “I’m certain she’ll be coming in to get it and, when she does, I’ll be ready for her.” The unicorn turned a thankful smile to Fancy Pants, who simply gave her a wink as her hoof snaked out and pulled her bowl of oatmeal close to her again. The only option I have now is to apologize, Rarity repeated to herself as her magic lit up the handle of her spoon. It might not work, but the alternative is losing Octavia forever. She winced as she stared down at her lukewarm breakfast. I just hope it’s not too little, too late…
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Despite the brilliant day blooming around her, Rarity felt the shadows from breakfast looming in her heart even as she headed towards the Boutique for her last day of business. The air was moist and warm as the sun heated the trees and grass that lined Fleur’s street and a gentle breeze caused the leaves to rustle in waves of relaxing sound that reminded Rarity greatly of the sea and, as she turned the corner at the end of the lane, Rarity had to admit that it was an absolutely gorgeous summer day, even if she couldn’t bring herself out of her own thoughts long enough to enjoy it.
Today must be the day, she thought to herself as she headed towards the business district of Canterlot, her steps measured and methodical. She’s got to come in today… Deep inside, Rarity knew she should be thinking about how she was going to close up her shop tonight. She should be thinking about how she was going to pack things back up and how she was going to move everything back to Ponyville in the next few days, but as she made her way towards the Boutique for the last time, she could not help but think about the very thing that had been at the forefront of her mind for the past four days: her precarious position with Octavia.
At the thought of the cellist, Rarity felt her brow furrow and, in spite of the beautiful day, she felt a shiver run down her neck. The past few days have been just awful, she reflected as she walked. Not knowing if she would suddenly appear at the door of the Boutique, never knowing if I wanted her to or not… The unicorn sighed and gave her head a shake before turning her eyes determinedly back to the street before her. But now I know that I want her to come in, and more importantly… She turned her head and glanced back to the saddlebags that she wore across her back. More importantly, I know what I have to do, she finished with a smile. Fancy Pants and Fleur had been absolutely right at breakfast and, if there was one thing Rarity had learned to do over her years as a designer, it was how to take the good advice of others.
Her pace quickened as the Boutique came into view and in spite of the trepidation still swirling in her heart Rarity felt her smile grow larger and stronger at the sight of it. She hurried down the last stretch of the street, her magic igniting and pulling the key out of her saddlebags even before she could come to a stop in front of the Boutique’s door. Today must be the day, she thought firmly as she inserted the key into the door. It must!
She pushed the door open and hurried inside, closing it gently behind her before crossing the empty area in the front of the store, her hoofsteps echoing almost sadly in the growing void of the building’s interior. It was, of course, the natural progression of events: first the store became filled with dresses as Rarity made them and then, as their new owners took possession of her creations, the store slowly emptied until it was barren once more. It was the cycle that happened every new season back at the Carousel Boutique in Ponyville and one that Rarity knew should not make her sad, yet as she cast her eyes around the tidy corners and the neatly packed pile of boxes that contained the final dresses to be claimed, she could not help but feel an upwelling of melancholy at the knowledge that this was, in fact, her last day at this store.
Her ears drooped as she made her way to her desk, the hollow sounds of the all-but empty building settling onto her with an almost tangible force. I have to admit, I’m going to miss this place, she thought as she levitated her saddlebags onto the desk’s top. It’s strange how quickly one can become attached to a place that has absorbed so much of your time and energy and how sad one can feel when that location is suddenly no longer the same as it was. The unicorn turned and gazed at the front windows as the morning sunlight poured in, coloring the white tiles in the front of the shop a bright, glowing orange that shimmered and danced as she watched.
For Rarity, of course, it wasn’t quite as hard to realize why she was going to miss this extension of her boutique and, after a few moments of reminiscence, she sighed. “Well, time to get to work, Rarity,” she muttered to herself. Her horn ignited and flicked the switch for the lights at the back of the room, filling the dark space with warm yellow light that mingled with the bright orange from the sun and brought glorious light to the Boutique for its final day of business. Rarity smiled and, after a moment, her magic left the light switch and jumped to her saddlebags. With a deft flick of her horn, her magic opened the left flap of the bags and gently removed a small box from within.
Rarity’s smile grew softer as the box floated through the air to hover in front of her. The container itself was not very remarkable – it was a small, simple box covered in soft black cloth that many jewelers used to house their creations – but atop it, Rarity had added a single personal touch: an artfully scrawled treble clef adorned the face, its soft violet tone standing out in stark contrast to the black material that covered the wooden vessel. Rarity gazed at the clef for a moment before her magic cracked the box open on its single hinge, her heart leaping in her chest as her gaze settled onto its glittering contents.
Inside the box and nestled into a cushion of black velvet was the amethyst that she had picked out for Octavia, its facets sparkling in the clear morning sunlight streaming in the windows. She had agonized over its presentation and how she could best show off the simple beauty of the stone without making it so gaudy that Octavia wouldn’t wear it. Eventually, she had made a decision that was completely against her own personal tastes. She had set the amethyst into a small, unobtrusive silver backing that wasn’t visible from the front, placed a link onto the backing and attached it to a single strand of black silk ribbon that would tie around the wearer’s neck. It was simple and elegant, two of the traits that Rarity felt best described the cellist, but it had taken all of her restraint not to set the gem into a glittering array of diamonds and sapphires that could be seen from miles around on a clear day. That’s the difference between making something for yourself and something for somepony else, Rarity, she reminded herself as she smiled down at the necklace. You have to think of their taste… and I believe this will suit Octavia to a tee.
She had, of course, considered not bringing the necklace with her today. She had considered simply leaving it in her room and worrying about it at another time, perhaps once things between herself and Octavia had settled a bit, but she knew that she couldn’t. She had to bring it with her, no matter what happened.
The unicorn let out a sigh and, just as she was about to lose herself in thought about Octavia again, she heard the front door of her shop creak slowly open. The bell that hung over the door tinkled softly and drew Rarity’s gaze like a magnet, her smile immediately brightening to her “greeting customers” level of intensity, but as her eyes fell upon her first guest of the day, they widened in surprise. She gasped silently, yet even as she inhaled it felt as though all of the air in her lungs had been magically sucked out, leaving her chest to feel tight and her head to swim as her heart leaped against her ribs…
…because standing in her doorway was the one pony she had longed to see for half a week: the cool, calm gray figure of Octavia.
Rarity’s mouth opened and closed several times as the other mare paused in the doorway, her body and saddlebags bathed in the golden light of the morning as she hesitated on the threshold. She glanced around the shop once, almost as if she were uncertain of where she was for a moment, before her gaze came to rest on Rarity. As soon as it did, however, her ears perked up and she stood up straighter as she held the door open with her left hoof.
“I… I am sorry for showing up at your shop so early,” she said into the silence of the Boutique. “But I have a lot to do before this evening, and I was hoping to–” she paused, and to Rarity’s surprise, her muzzle scrunched as if she’d had to bite several of her words short to keep them from bursting out, “–I was hoping to get my dress before I did anything else,” she finished after a moment, her words careful and even.
Her words snapped Rarity out of her reverie and, in a moment of pure panic, the unicorn’s magic snapped the box floating in front of her shut with a loud and extremely obvious click that echoed in the room for much longer than it should have. Rarity winced at the lingering sound, but managed to levitate the box back to her desk before turning her own gaze back to Octavia, her heart pounding in her ears.
“O-of course,” she stammered, her words shaking despite her attempts to the contrary. “Please, come in and I’ll get everything ready for you.”
Instead of answering her, Octavia simply nodded before stepping inside the Boutique, shutting the door silently behind her as she did so. Rarity offered her a nod before turning quickly to the stack of dress boxes that sat behind the desk, her heart thudding against her chest so hard that she thought for certain that Octavia could hear it. Oh dear sweet Celestia, why is she here already?! The unicorn thought as she stared blankly at the neatly packed boxes, her eyes unseeing as she tried to steady her nerves. I didn’t think she would be here first thing in the morning! I-I’m not ready! I haven’t thought of what to say to her! I haven’t even thought of what I’m going to do with her necklace yet!!
Rarity felt panic begin to rise in her throat, but after a moment she took a deep breath and, with all of the skill of a professional designer, forced the bubbling nervousness and sour taste in her throat all back down into her stomach. She exhaled quietly then took another silent breath in and, after a few repeated breaths, her thoughts came sidling nervously back to her like skittish foals during their first thunderstorm. Now just stay calm, Rarity, she told herself. You need to keep your head. It’s clear that she’s not here to start a fight… The unicorn risked a sideways glance at Octavia, who was looking around the room and doing her level best to appear bored as she waited for Rarity to find her dress.
…and that means that you just might have the chance that you wanted so desperately.
Rarity’s magic took hold of the box on the very bottom of the stack and slid it carefully out, settling all of the other boxes back to the floor as she moved the first one. With careful, deliberate movements, the unicorn lifted the box up and settled it onto her desk before she turned to Octavia, her smile soft and genuine as she met the other mare’s gaze.
“Here you are,” she said quietly, her knees quavering slightly behind her desk. “Everything is prepared and the dress is ready to wear as soon as you would like.” Octavia stepped up to the desk, her eyes and expression just as cool as they had been moments before, but as Rarity watched the other mare, she felt her eyes narrow. There’s something different about her, the unicorn thought as the earth pony reached up and touched the large box with a hoof. Perhaps it was a trick of the morning sun pouring in the front windows, or perhaps it was simply Rarity’s own excited and semi-panicked mind looking more deeply into things than it needed to, but as she watched Octavia she began to notice… well, she didn’t exactly know how to describe them. The other mare appeared just as unflappable as she always had, but somehow Rarity was seeing small, infinitesimal things that seemed to scream at her that Octavia was not as unflappable as always right at that moment. The way the earth pony kept shifting her weight from hoof to hoof, the way her ears kept flicking expectantly towards Rarity even though she wasn’t saying anything, and especially the way that Octavia’s beautiful eyes kept darting to her own, as if hoping to meet Rarity’s gaze for just a second longer.
She’s uncertain, Rarity realized as she watched. She doesn’t know how I’m going to react to her, but it’s clear that she wants to say something about the other night. She felt her lips press together in a tight smile. But she won’t say anything first. If I learned anything about Octavia in the past three weeks, I learned that she would rather suffer in silence than rock the boat, as it were, so it’s going to be up to me this time.
“Excellent.” Octavia nodded and offered her a smile that was perfectly measured for the situation. “I’m certain that the dress is immaculate, so there is no need to open the box on my account.”
Rarity’s eyes widened and, without a second thought, she waved her hoof dismissively. “Oh come now, darling,” she said with a gentle chuckle. “That would be absolutely against my policy. I insist that we open this box and allow you to take a look at the dress before I send you on your way.” To her surprise, Octavia blinked rapidly twice before giving her head a small, polite shake.
“That will not be necessary,” she began, but Rarity held her hoof up and forestalled her with a smile.
“Oh none of that, Octavia!” she said. “It’s my rule to never send a guest on her way before she’s seen the finished product–” her voice dropped gently and she managed to catch Octavia’s gaze firmly in her own before continuing, “–and you wouldn’t want to buy a dress without first seeing its imperfections, would you?”
To her surprise, Octavia snorted gently. “Your dresses have no imperfections, Rarity,” she answered with a knowing smile. “You are far too meticulous for that.”
“On the contrary,” said Rarity with a shake of her head, “every single one of my dresses has imperfections.” Her magic lit the top of the cardboard box that held Octavia’s dress and lifted the top away, revealing the folded black and gray material within. The sash that was meant to be tied around the dress’s waist was folded neatly across the top of the fabric and just a hint of the lace that decorated the hemline was visible along the bottom of the folds. Without waiting for Octavia to comment, Rarity’s magic grasped the dress and pulled it halfway out of the box, levitating the ribbon and separate cuff safely out of the way as she prodded the neckline with a hoof. “For instance, the neckline of your dress, here? I was forced to pull that seam out four different times as I tried to get it to settle right against the ponyquin and, because of that, the neck dips a bit more right here than along the rest. And here,” she shifted the dress in her magic and pointed to where the dress shifted colors from gray to black. “I had actually intended this stripe to be wider, but I found out that I only had enough gray to do this much so I had to improvise. And along the bottom, in the lace? There’s actually a large hole in the lace that I used, but because I had so little available I had to use it anyway. I’ve checked it from every possible angle and there’s no way to see it, but I’ll still know it’s there.” She blushed slightly as she admitted it. “It’s silly, perhaps, but it’s something that I’ll always know about this particular dress.”
Her magic settled the garment back down onto the desk, its fabric draping over the edges of the box as Octavia gave her head a small shake. “And… and why are you telling me all of this?” she asked quietly after a moment, her eyes suddenly sparking with a hint of emotion. “Why tell me all of the flaws in a dress if you are embarrassed about them?”
Rarity smiled knowingly at Octavia. “Because no dress is perfect, Octavia,” she said softly. “Each and every one has flaws, but that is what makes each one special…” Her heart leaped in her chest and, after a moment, Rarity reached her hoof out and touched Octavia’s gently. “…and knowing the flaws of each dress makes it easier to enjoy it for what it is – a dress that is yours and only yours, a dress that is unique to you, even if there are a thousand more like it out in the world.” Her eyes met Octavia’s and she felt her throat tighten as the sparkling depths she had fallen in love with suddenly flared to life before her. “Because knowing a dress’s flaws allow you to truly love it.”
Silence fell over the two mares as they stood together, their hooves touching over the midnight fabric of the dress and, as the seconds ticked by, Rarity felt her heart swell in her chest. Please, Octavia, she begged silently. Please let me love you, don’t run or hide any more.
“Knowing its flaws allows you to truly love it.” The gray mare repeated softly, her eyes dancing with emotion. “I don’t think I have ever heard such a thing before.”
Rarity let out a choked laugh as she struggled to keep herself from crying. “W-well perhaps it’s more of a dressmaker’s analogy,” she managed to say after a moment. Across her desk, Octavia’s lips quirked into a smile, but after another moment, she gently withdrew her hoof from Rarity’s touch, her lip quivering.
“Perhaps,” she whispered. “But a musician’s imperfections are more noticeable, more obvious, and less acceptable than a dressmaker’s.” She winced and turned away from Rarity, her eyes tightly shut. “I envy your ability to look upon the fruits of your labor with such a discerning yet understanding eye, Rarity, and wish that I could do the same.”
Rarity’s heart sank in her chest, but even as she felt the clouds of despair rise inside her, a fire blazed to life in her heart and forced words out of her mouth. “Well, perhaps it would merely take somepony with a willing heart to help you see your dropped stitches and torn fabric with fondness instead of bitterness?” she suggested, her eyes pleading. “I’m certain that there is a pony out there willing to do so.”
Octavia turned back to Rarity and opened her eyes and the unicorn felt her breath catch in her throat. The other mare’s amethyst gaze sparkled with unshed tears and, as she took a deep breath, she looked so absolutely conflicted and melancholy that it was all Rarity could do to keep herself from snatching her up into a hug and simply holding her forever.
“Perhaps,” Octavia whispered finally. “But… I…”
Don’t run away! Please!
“…I have to go,” Octavia finished weakly. “I have lots to do today a-and, if I get too far behind, I won’t be able to finish everything in time.” Her ears flattened themselves against her mane as she turned away from Rarity once more. “I’m sorry.”
Rarity felt her chest deflate and, in spite of her best efforts, she knew that her shoulders had slumped noticeably. Oh Octavia, she thought with an inward sigh. If this is what you really want, then why are you stopping yourself? She watched the other mare for several long moments before nodding slowly.
“As you wish, Octavia,” she said gently. Her magic lit up the dress once more and folded the garment neatly in mid-air before replacing it in the box, but as the beautiful dress settled into its temporary home, Rarity’s hoof snatched up the small jewelry box on her desk and slipped it deftly into the larger box. In a matter of seconds, the small box had vanished into the silken folds of the garment. Rarity’s blue magic leaped to the box’s top, lifted it, and replaced it before tying two pieces of sturdy string around it to hold it in place. After she was certain that everything was secured just right, the unicorn turned back to Octavia and gave her a warm smile. “There you are. All ready to go.”
The earth pony nodded and offered the unicorn a deep bow. “Thank you very much, Rarity,” she said softly. She turned, stuck her nose into her right saddlebag, and withdrew a thin, elegantly decorated folder with her teeth. Without hesitation, she placed the folder atop the box and allowed Rarity to grasp it in her magic, her eyebrows rising in surprise.
Letters of credit weren’t used very often in towns like Ponyville, let alone some of the smaller hamlets that were scattered across Equestria, but in large cities like Manehatten, Las Pegasus, and Canterlot, where ponies often paid thousands upon thousands of bits to one another, letters of credit were a common sight. It was safer and much more dignified to walk into an establishment with a single piece of paper in an ornate envelope than to try and haul three wagons full of bits across whichever city you lived in and Rarity had been paid exclusively in them here in Canterlot, but Octavia’s revelation of a letter of credit surprised Rarity. I honestly didn’t expect her to be able to get one of these, she admitted silently, but regardless of her thoughts, the unicorn levitated the folder across the desk and slid it neatly beneath the dress box.
“Thank you very much, Octavia,” she replied, repeating the bow as perfectly as she could. “I… I truly hope that I will get to see you again before I leave Canterlot in three days.” She lifted the dress box in her magic and settled it gently onto Octavia’s back, her heart aching as it appeared that once again the matter between them would remain unresolved.
“I certainly hope so, as well,” the earth pony replied, her eyes meeting Rarity’s firmly. “I feel there are still things that we could discuss and I’m certain that Silver Blossom would wish to see you before you left, as well.”
“Tomorrow afternoon?” asked Rarity, her lips quirking into a sad smile. “At the White Lily?”
Octavia let out a breathy laugh and nodded. “Yes, that sounds wonderful,” she said, though Rarity could hear melancholy in her voice. She inclined her head once more before turning towards the door and, without a single glance back, Octavia walked to the door, opened it, and stepped out into the morning air.
Rarity watched her as she turned and made her way down the street, her shoulders drooping even further as she plopped herself down into the chair at her desk. Her eyes welled up with tears as anger and bitterness surged in her heart and, before she could stop herself, she swatted the folder that Octavia had paid off the top of her desk, sending it spiraling across the room.
“STUPID!” she shouted at the door. “How can you be so STUPID AND BLIND?” She slammed her hooves into her desk and opened her mouth to shout out her frustration at the whole situation, but just as she was about to unleash her inner fury, something fluttering caught the corner of her eye. She turned with a jerk to see the folder with the letter of credit settle to the floor, part of its contents slowly fluttering down beside it. “What… what is that?” she muttered. Normally, such folders only held one piece of paper: the letter of credit itself, a large and ornate document that a pony had to take to the bank, but there was something else inside the folder. Her anger quickly faded as Rarity leaped from her chair and hurried to the folder, her horn lighting up and grasping the smaller piece of paper that had fallen out.
She lifted it from the floor and, as she turned it over, she felt her heart leap into her throat.
“This… this is a concert ticket,” she whispered hoarsely, “to… to the Canterlot Metropolitan Concert Hall for tonight!” She frowned. “But… but who is playing there tonight?” Her magic flipped the ticket over and her eyes widened. “The Metropolitan Concert Hall cordially invites you to view the Canterlot Quartet as they audition for the Princesses. Featuring Frederick Horseshoepin, Harpo Gildedstrings, Beauty Brass and–” Rarity’s heart pounded in her chest and, in spite of herself, she felt tears trickle from the corners of her eyes as she smiled a quavering smile, “–Octavia Melody.”
Her eyes darted to the door again, but this time she felt no anger. Instead, she felt as though she had perhaps glimpsed yet another of her favorite dress’s imperfections and she stood, the concert ticket clutched desperately in her magical grip as the letter of credit lay forgotten on the floor.
“Tonight, at 8:30 pm,” she finished reading. “I’ll be there.”