5.4
“Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where everything is chic and magnifi-eeek!” As Rarity sightlessly stared out into the relatively blinding light of the late afternoon sun of Equestria, she could only ponder on her death due shortly. Well, dying of shock due to finding the new ruler of Equestria on your doorstep wasn’t the worst way to go.
Luna frowned, glancing behind herself. No-pony looking, her wallflower spell was still functioning and keeping potential gawkers away. It couldn’t have been the sun that set Rarity off; she had double-checked her sister’s work before coming down from the mountain. Probably just Rarity forgetting something, she supposed as she wiped off her royal shoes upon the mat. Rarity finally half-stumbled back from the door, letting Luna squeeze through the narrow gap onto the hardwood floors of the fashionata’s foyer. A faint application of the midnight blue aura of her magic shut the door behind her and dispelled her illusions with a mere fragment of will as the town was shut away from them at last.
Softly, Luna circled around Rarity, looking her over from tail tip to scrunched muzzle, finally sliding up alongside her and hugging her tightly with a wing. Squeaks slipped from Rarity as the strength of the feathered limb lifted her from her hooves. “Aye, most magnificent indeed, my friend! And well done on seeing through my spells so quickly.”
Sighing, Luna clutched Rarity close as she walked with the fashionata to the main showroom of the shop. Perhaps the repeated mumbles from the alabaster pony were a chant asking for inspiration from the muses, Luna pondered as Rarity’s dangling hooves clicked against each and every joint of the floorboards. Or memories? There had certainly been many over the years; adventures of all possible shapes and forms with the six. Memories both good, and ill. Good times, good times. “I must reluctantly admit it, but I come not for your company, but for your services, Rarity.”
That snapped Rarity out of her trance in a moment, dressing royalty!? No, no, definitely no! She was about to be utterly ruined! Ruined and left a woe begotten wreck with only Opal as company! Shaking and shivering all over from her certain woe, Rarity fell out from the tight curl of Luna’s wing to sprawl upon the floor. “Excuse me? Wha-what use could you have for me?” She skittered around Luna on uncertain and jittery hooves and reared up to block the path to her workshop with her whole body. “No, no, your majesty! My workshop and my services are simply unfit for some-pony of your stature!”
“Did you just call me fat?” Luna joked, frowning as Rarity turned impossibly white. Sigh, did Rarity have to be so insecure as well? “Relax, Rarity. Even if you had, I would just use your words to poke fun at my rather rounded sister.” Squeak. Sigh. “You are a FRIEND, even if one that I rarely have time or occasion to visit. Friends may joke with friends.” Luna picked up the stiffly quivering mare and turned her outstretched form sideways. Rarity blinked with shock and concern as she was slid through the door with all the casualness of some-pony moving a piece of furniture around as Luna clopped through behind her. “Oh. Oh, um…”
“It’s hideous! Unspeakable! I know, not fit for equine eyes to see!”
“It’s cleaner than my room. Or my sister’s, for that matter.” Luna mumbled, trying to make sense of why the alabaster mare would be ashamed of organization that was impeccable enough to leave Twilight Sparkle awestruck. She rubbed her neck with a fore-hoof slowly, feeling a distinct awkwardness inherent to the situation. “Right. Well, I suppose I could help you with your insecurity tonight, it would help us both. My therapist would approve.” She mumbled as she stopped upon the center dais and set Rarity down flat on her belly beside it.
Rarity cackled nervously and coughed into a hoof as she stood up, relaxing just a tiny bit. “Oh, I don’t know what you’re talking about, you majesty! I am the very model of an aspiring lady to be, and there is most certainly nothing wrong with me.” Rarity protested carefully to the diarch as she trotter up.
Sighing, Luna put her shod hoof up on Rarity’s shoulder and looked down into her eyes. “Take it from the one who went mad enough to have one of the words describing mad-ponies created in her honor; every-pony is at least a little crazy.” A smile slowly cranked up the corners of her mouth as Rarity pouted lightly in a squiggly frown. That hoof that had been upon Rarity’s shoulder swooped forwards, beeping her on the nose. “The trick is turning that madness into branding and business.”
Rarity’s gaze swept downwards, focusing on the center point of the dais between Luna’s hooves as she hummed in thought to herself. Her ears drooped as she remembered several things that had been said to her over the years. “I suppose you’re right. I guess it’s not that surprising that you would know.” Then Tiberius ruined the moment by squeezing out from under Luna’s other wing and ruined the moment by flipping through the air to land in a threatening ninja pose at their hooves. Of course Rarity matched the expectations upon her, squealing and rearing back to flail her fore-hooves while teetering on her hind-legs. “Aaaaiiiiieeee! Rat, rat, rat! Kill it, kill it! AaaaaAAAHHH! Stay away!” She kept skittering back as Tiberius threateningly air-kicked and karate-chopped in her general direction. Looking back and forth, she searched for a spare bolt of cloth to use as an impromptu war hammer.
“Tiberius!” Dook? “Stop that!” Squeak-dook! “You started it! She was making a simple observation, there was no call for flipping out and frightening her! Why not let me introduce her and then pass judgment when you recall that she bears an element of harmony!” Luna motherly scolded her pet, frowning imperiously until her dropped back to all fours and tilted his head at her. One long, blue leg extended out to him so he could climb up her to rest on her head. “I am very disappointed in you, Tibbles.” Squeeeak. “Ah, Rarity! Meet Tiberius. Tiberius, Rarity.” She looked over to where the fashionata had taken cover, her smile falling back into a frown as she noted the hastily assembled fortress of wheeled carts and array of blunt fabric weapons. “I would ask the two of you to kiss and make up, but I fear it would not end well.”
“Y-you have a rat for a pet?” Rarity insensitively asked in her confusion. She squeaked as Tiberius hissed at her again, ducking back down behind her neat stockade.
Luna’s horn lit once again, applying gentle strokes of her magic to her pet to soothe him back down. And hold him in place in case he did something stupid, but he didn’t need to know that. “Nay, not a rat! Tibbles is a most proud and majestic Shadow Possum! The first of his kind; stardust, magic, and flesh given fiendish cunning and cuddly nature!” Tibbles sighed at the praise, rubbing his cheeks against his mistresses’ mane.
Confusion, doubt, inspection, inquiry. “Shadow… possum? I’ve heard of opossums before from Fluttershy; she’s always described them as ‘a bit thick in the head,’ so to paraphrase her. Certainly, she has never described a ‘shadow possum.’ Is there a difference?” Rarity fished for details from Luna, and noted Tiberius’s thick waistline in the process. Magically suspended measuring tape poked him gingerly in the belly, making him squeak in protest and flail at it to get it away.
More magic wreathed about Tibbles as his mistress sat down on her haunches and pulled him down to cuddle. Sighs of pleasure escaped him as she nuzzled him with her chin behind his ears, listening further. “Of course she did not. They did not exist before I adopted Tibbles dearest as my pet and familiar. His rather peculiar colors come from taking on the same properties as my mane of the skies. He becomes rather spectacular with the coming of dawn and dusk.” She preened at his fur, slowly cleaning him up and inspecting his sky-blue fur as the clouds above rolled across his body, reflected through his magic.
“Oh.” Rarity awkwardly murmured before putting her stockade back in its places. She cautiously approached, marveling at the sight of the magic marsupial with her newfound knowledge. “Well, I suppose he is a rather beautiful specimen in that light.” Tiberius pouted. “In fact, a little chivalrous gentle-stallion, coming to the aid of his mistress when her good name was disparaged.” He perked up again, smugly grinning at the compliment.
“Oh, I don’t know. With the way he has been eating all the animal treats in the castle, the assumption that he might be a rat isn’t entirely unfounded.” Tiberius’s smug smile flopped flat like a fish. He turned to indignantly squeak at his mistress, only to be silenced by her smooch. “But we love him all the same. So smart, and talented, and chubby.” Squeak! “And cuddly, and protective.” Murr.
Rarity nodded in understanding, pulling out some old designs from her over-stuffed archive shelf. Spike had once asked her to make a suit of armor, so adjusting a similar frame downwards to fit a teensy-weensy familiar couldn’t be too hard of a challenge. “Well, if he will permit me to correct my earlier fault, I suppose I could make a suit of dashing armor for the little protector.” A good night of the realm she could work with, and she giggled as he hopped from Luna’s grasp and pretended to wield a sword. “So, how exactly did he become a… shadow possum?”
Scratching began once more as Luna smiled at her pet, stroking at his back until he chittered with happiness and fell flat. “Oh, he started out much like his mundane counterparts. When I found him and bonded with him, I began infusing him with my power until he started metamorphosing into his new form. He still has a grand journey of changes ahead. Most magic creatures start out similarly, even Philomena.” Luna glanced about to all of the windows in the room, inspecting the frosted glass for signs of a nosy red phoenix. When she was sure that the prickly prideful bird hadn’t followed, the princess of the night pulled Rarity over and whispered a secret into her ear. “Tell no-pony, but Philomena started as a mere sparrow who kept cheering my sister up after my—departure.”
“Ohhh.” Rarity nodded in understanding. “So, um, Princ-“
“Call me Luna, Rarity.” Luna reminded her as she let Rarity lean back from the conspirator’s huddle.
“Yes, right, Luna. I know that you came for business, but as I was saying before our little misunderstanding, my humble enterprise is simply unfit and unprepared for the patronage of a royal client.” Rarity tried to explain, humbly bowing once even as he mind leapt through design after design of possibilities for dressing the princess of the night. Oh, to be so unworthy of dressing such a magnificent mare of starlight!
“Odd. I would hope that any mare considered cunning and fashionable enough to dress the princesses of love and friendship would be able to handle me. Oh, woe is me, I don’t know who I shall entrust my image to. Oh, fretting! Worry!” Luna melodramatically sassed the fashionata as she pointed out simple truths. Licking a hoof, she glued a stray lock of Rarity’s mane back into place and readopted her dramatic pose with foreleg splayed across her forehead and eyes closed.
Rarity frumpily frowned, sitting on her haunches as a pencil floated over to rest pinned between her ear and scalp. “Assault by sarcasm is simply dreadful, you know.”
Mad laughter was Luna’s response as her outburst temporarily dimmed the light of the windows with the illusion of an indoor crackling storm. With as much suddenness as she began, she stopped and reassumed her sedate sitting pose upon the carpeted dais. “Nonsense, all is fair in fashion and war.” Luna grasped a royal contract pulled forth from the swirling endless depths of her tail. “Quite to the contrary, Rarity. You are the perfect choice to suit my needs for suits.” She handed the seamstress the envelope, waiting as Rarity pulled out a pair of glasses from her covered desk. “No-pony else will properly acquist to my will. That, of course, is if they even accepted the contract to begin with. I need a change of image; powerful, simplistic, yet enigmatic and filled with hidden depths. I need ponies to see with utmost clarity that their mistaken belief that I shall rule much as my sister did is lacking.” She clarified.
Nodding in some understanding, Rarity unfolded the envelope and the contract paper within it. Oh dear, that was a whole bunch of bits. Hockey momma applesaucing—what was she saying? She looked at the contract, gaping as she noted the number of zeroes behind the one. Cricket chirping bug juice, she was going to—what was she saying? She squinted, looking at the—
Luna’s hoof reached in and plucked the contract away from her, hiding it from sight. “Well, that went well.”
Rarity shook her head, blinking as she tried to figure out what had just happened. “Wha-why did you take it away? I didn’t even read the terms. Was there a mistake?”
“It seems that a sum amounting to—what is the phrase, ‘all the money,’ it seems that perhaps you should not be exposed to sums of that size. I took it away after you half-fainted in shock several times. I will take the time to produce an amended copy somewhat later. One that will hopefully not ‘brain freeze’ you.” Luna wryly noted, fixing Rarity’s mane once more as the mare glubbed on air like a fish. A careful sweep of magic to bring over a thick pillow to sit on, a careful push of magic, and Rarity was safely sitting down.
“All the money? Oh dear, there must be an error, my services are nowhere near valuable enough to—“
“Your services are so valuable, several score more so for myself. You will treat me like a pony instead of an idol to exalt, and therefore you shalt be rewarded most richly.” Luna calmly stated as she held Rarity upright as the seamstress turned disturbingly pale once again. Ethereal power trickled between them as the faintest of hums vibrated in Luna’s throat; a soft verse of energy to help transition Rarity through her shock until her attention had returned. “Ponies expect to treat me as if I am my sister, as if I shall rule as my sister, have her tastes, be her double. I must show them the error. This shalt correct them. Would not your sister do anything, pay any price to be considered her own mare instead of a pale shadow of yourself?”
Thoughtful shock and concern circulated in Rarity’s mind. A journal snooped upon, picking Applejack to relate to, a half-ruined birthday party, and dozens more such incidents could be counted on countless hooves. Rarity blinked, looking away from Luna as her eyes were closed, looking to her opened drawing desk where a primitive collage of two sisters in a heart of gemstones laid. “So she would. I-I never thought of it as such. I had always assumed, no, stupid me. Of course the two of you never entirely saw eye to eye, what am I saying?”
Ruefully, Rarity chuckled, shaking her head. “If Sweetie could, she would go bare naked for the rest of her life; and no matter what I try, I teach her nothing but the worst of my habits. And yet,” She sighed, her head drooping, “For all that I am a bearer of harmony, she had a mind of song and harmony I couldn’t dream of. She’s such a better pony than I am.”
Luna nodded, feeling awfully light-headed. Which was ridiculous, as she was certain she had put Tibbles up there. Reaching out with a hoof, she turned Rarity’s chin around to look her in the eyes and remind her of a few key things. “And where I bring grace, logic, rhythm, and so many good qualities left ignored; my sister has as much compassion as Fluttershy, a voice that took a thousand years to achieve something other than ‘broken glass in a tumbler’-flat, four left hooves, and so many qualities that are my equal and opposite. Fret not upon being a poor example for your younger sister, for you are in good company.” Luna reminded her, fishing out a photo of her sister making a rather silly face with crossed eyes and a stuck out tongue for illustration.
“I-I never thought of it like that.” Rarity mused aloud, despairing a little that not even the best of pony-kind could get it right.
“Oh, stop that. Sister and I were alone, and without peers then. You and your sister have peers in abundance. Rely on them to aid you, to keep you both straight upon a path of harmony. And try not to force her to change, or expect her to live up to your own example. She shall be her own star.” Luna reminded, looking past Rarity to a more professional photo of the sisters on the wall.
A nod, a grin of determination, narrowed eyebrows of cunning thought, and a gaze of steely will. “So I shall, P-Luna.” Rarity clopped her fore-hooves against the floor, opening all her workbenches and marching forth an army of measuring tools in her aura. It was unorthodox, clothing a princess, but she—RARITY!—would be the first!
“You’re narrating aloud.” Curse her dramatic will! “Still doing it. Remember, crazy can be good.”
An eyebrow tilted up once more. Fine thing, she could do crazy, she would show them all-ahem. Right. “So, you wish to be dressed fashionably to distinguish yourself from your sister. So be it! Odd, come to think of it, I can’t recall her ever wearing a dress, at court or otherwise. Well, there could have been a dress at Twilight’s coronation, but my mind screams at me whenever I attempt to recall. Something about garish colors and clashing design pieces forming an abomination against all fashion. I must have blanked it out to retain my little remaining sanity.” Rarity aloud as she stood Luna up straight in her magic and half-mummified her in measuring tapes while bracing her up with rulers and sizing forms.
Sigh, she had to bring it up, didn’t she? Bleagh. She tried to take a breath, only for the tapes to squeeze half the air from her lungs. “Yes, much like your sister, she has no sense of fashion at all. Those—abominations—were of her design; I counseled rigorously to have you design the entire event instead. I don’t know when she came up with half of it.” Luna admitted, her cheeks burning pinkish with blushing shame. “Twilight deserved better. Less pageantry, more books, perhaps.”
“Oh dear.” Rarity trotted around Luna, noting the complete lack of signs of a sedentary lifestyle. My, why such legs—no, focus Rarity! “Well, your dresses will be much better. I can assure you of that.”
“Suits, not dresses.” Luna squeaked as Rarity tugged the measurements a little tighter, gasping as the lines around her chest were released.
“Say again?” Rarity blurted, looking up from where she had been studiously writing instead of admiring the perfect sculpting of her customer.
Forcing her gaze to just above the rich oaken half-paneling on the walls of the room, Luna settled on the creamy blue paint rather than tuck her head under her wing from the feelings the extremely thorough session of measuring were inducing. “Suits. To project an image of authority and power. Formality and such, instead of the excessive casualness my sister only halfway implemented. Certainly, I will need a dress for certain social events; however, for court matters formal suits fit my needs better. Presenting that image of authority, power, preparedness, so on and so forth.” Luna elaborated, lapsing off towards the end. She hadn’t entirely followed along with Honeydew and Stiff Resistance after she had woken up the day before, as she had been too jarred from the grand avalanche for it to sink in properly. “There may have been other reasons suggested by my advisors, but I fear I was too busy drooling into my tail.”
“Ah, I see. The Rainbow Dash defense against excessive jargon. It works, I suppose.” Rarity chided, shuddering a bit as she tried to imagine what would happen to her own tail if she tried. She held Luna even stiller as the alicorn tried to tap a hoof. Where was it; ah, by the idle inspiration references! Rarity soon returned to Luna’s side, holding a relatively unused book on the reasoning’s behind fashion trends she had received in her associate’s degree studies. “Try not to move so much, I only have a few dozen more measurements to make before I can create a perfect form of your body.”
Flipping through the book over the slow and excessive sighs and groans of boredom on the part of her alicorn guest, she sought for the even less used half of the book detailing the beginnings of male fashion. “Ah, whereas dresses are designed to exhibit a sense of grace, passivity, and a gentle air; suits are designed to exhibit masculine traits, such as decisiveness, authority, aggressive tendencies, and an aura of gravitas. Hmm.” Rarity set the book to one side as she took up her pencil once again. “Well, that’s just silly. I could design a ‘powerful’ dress. Hmph!” Still, she could see some merits to it.
Luna nodded along, already feeling like a ponyquin. “Yes, somewhat in-line with my advisor’s suggestions. I had wished to supplement my regalia with ceremonial dress armor instead, but they suggested that such a look might be too ‘warlike’.” Luna grumbled, further irritated by the small issue of being unable to raise her hooves for a proper air-quote. Simple, silly nonsense. It would show her prepared for any conflict and prepared to dive into the darkest depths of the realm. And perhaps not so ceremonial, but forged of her darkest star-metals at her secret forge in the basement of the old castle. “Wait, where did Tibbles go?”
“Tiberius?”
Rarity realized along with her royal customer that neither of them had seen hide nor hair of the magic marsupial for several minutes and began looking about the organized workshop for signs of him. Not in the shelved racks of test fabrics, all stacked in experimental color combinations; not nibbling upon the bowl of chocolates meant to continually test her resolve and maintain the fashionata’s will, though it had been tipped over and filled with discarded wrappers; not upon the desks; not amongst the shelves of references on past designs; not on her customer information filing cabinets. Where could he—yowls of an angry cat called their attention to the other flat wall of the wedge-shaped room, to the kitchen door. It banged open as Tiberius leapt through it and flipped by his tail from the handle-lever up onto a shelf, followed quickly by Opal. He dodged with the masterful grace of a martial arts expert, flipping and squeezing through swatches of fabric and over thick binders of designs with the speed and confidence of a parkour mad-possum until he could dodge no further, cornered in between the desk and the corner in a nook as Opal closed in.
“Opal! Stop that this instance! Bad kitty!” Rarity scolded futilely as the cat hissed and closed for the kill.
Tiberius slyly smiled and wriggled against the wall as Opal hissed again and wriggled for the pounce. The white Persian launched herself, and in that same instant Tiberius dropped into his own shadow as an outline of a possum on the floor. Opal smacked face-first into the baseboard, tumbling back with a stunned low yowl of pain until she collapsed over in a flop.
“Opal?”
Luna lit her horn, pulling Tiberius out of his shadow and floating him over. He burped with chocolaty satisfaction and bad breath, making his mistress scrunch at the scent. Noting the smears of chocolate on his belly and the grumbles of his rounded gut, she poked him with a blunt dowel from Rarity’s collection. “Diet time.” She warned, relishing n his whimper.
“Opal?”