Rainbow Dash’s nose itched.
She flared her nostrils and wrinkled her muzzle, trying to stretch the skin and appease the nagging sensation. It worked, sort of. But then she needed to sneeze, which seemed like a terrible idea with those long, pointy scissors dancing just inches away from her ears.
How many ponies died in mane-cutting accidents every year? Rainbow Dash had no idea, but it was probably a lot. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. She watched in the mirror, hypnotized, as the scissors flashed around her head, raining little bits of her mane down on the sheet covering her shoulders and chest. It built up like colorful snow.
“Hey, uh…” She paused to swallow. “Have you ever killed anypony with those things?”
The scissors froze. In the mirror, the cream mare raised an eyebrow. Rainbow Dash heard Rarity sigh from a few feet away.
“Nevermind her,” Rarity said. “I don’t know where she gets these ideas.”
“Sorry,” Rainbow said. “My nose itches.”
* * *
After the mane-cut came the full-body trim. Rainbow Dash stood on a raised circular platform while the cream stallion walked around her, humming as he ran a pair of electric shears through her coat. The shears hummed louder than he did, so whatever tune he was trying to carry eluded her ears when he wandered away from her head.
Rarity told him to give her the “sporty” trim, which turned out to be the same shearing Wonderbolt cadets received at basic training, though with a bit more care and attention to detail. It was short on the legs, almost down to the skin around her ankles, but except for a bit of cleaning left her shoulders and chest almost unscathed. It would insulate her barrel against the cold of the high sky but not flap in the breeze. They even left the little ruff growing down the center of her chest alone. The stallion said it looked flirty.
Rainbow wasn’t sure she agreed with that, but whatever.
“Looks good, Miss Dash,” Nutmeg said. “Very sleek.”
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.” She turned in a circle, taking the measure of her new coat. It left her legs cool and exposed. She felt every little eddy of air in the room – the gentle wash of air flowing from the ceiling fan overhead, the steam rising from the sink behind her, even the stallion’s breath. Her wings twitched at the thought of flying through the clouds like this.
“Alright, not bad.” She walked over to a full length mirror and reared up to her full height, her wings outspread for balance. A little bit of oil brushed into the primaries left them with a gemlike sheen.
Yeah, not bad. She could do this.
* * *
“I can’t do this,” Rainbow Dash said.
They were back at the convention hall, in the single large dressing room being used by all the models preparing for the Hatwalk Hysteria. Tall curtains partitioned the area into a dozen or so rooms, which the models cycled through as they put on the last of their makeup and accessories, prior to the grand be-hatting right before they walked out onto the stage.
Rainbow Dash was inside one of these curtained rooms, though not to put on makeup or accessories, much less a hat. Instead she had found a blanket and was hiding beneath it. Peeking out beneath the rim, she could see Rarity’s hoof tapping impatiently.
“Darling, you’ve modelled entire ensembles before,” she said. “I promise you this won’t be any more difficult than that.”
“Are you kidding me?” Rainbow stuck her head out to glare at Rarity. “Did you see those mares? They’re, like, amazing! They’re more beautiful than you!”
Rarity’s eyes narrowed just a hair.
“Deciding, for the moment, not to dispute that because it is immaterial to our current predicament, may I ask why you suddenly care how other mares look?”
“I can’t compete with that!” Rainbow pulled the blanket tight around her shoulders. “Like, if we were racing, sure! No problem! But this, this is the Best Young Flyers all over again.”
“You did fine there, Rainbow. You won, if I recall.”
“Yeah, after you freaked out and nearly killed the Wonderbolts. But I’m not gonna get to rescue you again and pull off a sonic rainboom inside the convention center.”
Rarity’s eyes narrowed further.
“Do you want me to try killing a Wonderbolt again, Rainbow? Because I’m getting pretty close to—”
“Excuse me, ladies?” Nutmeg stuck his head through the curtain. “Hat Trick is about finished with the alterations. Are you ready?”
“Almost done!” Rarity spun, all smiles again. “Just a few more minutes, if you don’t mind?”
Nutmeg paused, his eyes on Rainbow Dash and her little shroud. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but something made him think twice and he nodded instead, vanishing back into the chaos outside the curtains.
Rarity let out a slow breath, then settled down beside Dash with her legs tucked beneath her body. “I’m sorry, darling. I almost let my temper get away from me for a moment. I know that it’s uncomfortable to be put on the spot like this, and I remember how cruel it was of me to try and upstage you at the Best Young Flyers competition. But the thing I remember most vividly from that contest was that, despite your fears, as soon as you saw a pony who needed help, you were the mare who came to the rescue. Not Celestia’s guards or the Wonderbolts, though heaven knows they tried. No, you were the one who leapt into action.”
She wrapped a foreleg around Rainbow Dash’s withers and pulled her closer. “And now, Rainbow? There’s another pony who needs your help. He’s not falling from Cloudsdale, and he’s not going to make a pretty splat if you can’t help him in time, but this is the most important thing in his life right now. If you can help him, if you can find it inside you to put that hat on and get out there, you can be the hero he needs. And, Rainbow Dash? Don’t tell the girls I said this, because I’ll never live it down, but you’re the most heroic pony I know.”
Rainbow Dash was silent. She stared down at her freshly clipped and polished hooves.
Finally, “You really think I’m a hero?”
Rarity’s lips twitched into a half-smile. “Of course. When you’re not napping, that is.”
Rainbow snorted and stood, casting the blanket off. “It’s not napping, it’s conserving energy.”
“As you say, darling.” Rarity stood, trotted over to the curtain, and whispered something through it. A moment later, Nutmeg and Hat Trick stepped through, the latter balancing a large black hatbox on his back.
Hat Trick let out a long, shaking breath. His hooves tapped at the linoleum. “Okay, I think it’s ready. There’s a few hairpins beneath the brim to hold it in place, but nopony should be able to see them.” He paused to look at Rainbow Dash, his eyes travelling up and down her form in a maneuver that would have earned him a black eye in any other circumstance. “Oh, wow. You look great, Rainbow.”
“Awesome,” she corrected. “I look awesome.”
“That works too,” he said. “Now, let’s see if this fits.”
Rainbow stood still while the others fussed with the hat, then fussed with her, then fussed with the hat and her at the same time. Rarity mumbled quietly to Hat Trick while they settled the Ocean Hat on her head, and they carefully teased her ears through the holes in the brim and tugged her mane this way and that. Nutmeg mostly watched, though twice he ran off to fetch an extra hairpin or some spirit glue. When they were done the hat was so firmly attached to her head Rainbow was certain she could fly through a tornado and it would remain in place.
Finally, all three stepped back to look at the whole package. Look, and judge. Rainbow’s wings bristled, and a trickle of cold sweat crept down her spine. Her legs wanted to dance, to escape, but she bid them to be still.
“Well?” she asked. “How is it?”
Nutmeg nodded. Hat Trick grinned. Rarity’s smile never changed.
“It’ll do, darling,” she said. “It will do quite nicely.”
* * *
Rainbow Dash fidgeted in the wings of the main stage. All around her were dark curtains and ropes and spotlights, directed out onto the stage beyond her sight. A dozen other mares shuffled in place beside her. Some buzzed with nervous energy; most were calm. They had done this before.
Well, so what? So had she. And Rainbow Dash was a winner.
“Seventeen, go,” a stagehand whispered, and the mare in front of Rainbow Dash strode through the curtain. A wash of flashes popped out of the night-dark audience, leaving sparkling afterimages in Rainbow’s eyes. Murmurs and light applause followed a few seconds later.
“Eighteen, ready,” the stagehand whispered in Dash’s ear. “And… eighteen, go.”
Alright, let’s do this. Rainbow Dash clenched her jaw, locked her wings to her sides, and bulled through the curtain like it was the tape across a finish line.
* * *
Hats were only a small piece of the Summer Sartorial Sensation. But for a few minutes, on the evening of the first day when the Hatwalk was complete and the judges prepared to announce the winners, the entire convention ground to a halt. The flow of bodies in the aisles between booths slowed like sludge and then froze, and all eyes turned toward the giant display screen hanging from the north wall.
Among the hat-dwellers, the scores were like an anvil ready to drop. Designers huddled in sweating wrecks among their creations, hooves shaking as they stared at the furled scores. Foals absorbed the excitement but not the gravity of the moment, and ran around and through the adults’ legs, shouting with glee but not knowing why.
In Hat Trick’s booth the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. It gathered around Rainbow’s ribs and squeezed the breath from her lungs. It flowed down her throat like tar.
Rarity and Nutmeg stood to the side. They had smiles on their faces and spoke to each other in low tones. Nutmeg made a sweeping gesture with his hoof, and Rarity laughed. They seemed calm, but Rainbow caught the slight quiver in Nutmeg’s ear, and the way Rarity’s eyes darted incessantly between Hat Trick and the soon-to-be-released scores.
Alone among the four of them, and for that matter alone among the hundreds of ponies crammed among the hats, Hat Trick radiated calm. He smiled gently, and his eyes never left the Ocean Hat, proudly displayed on a dummy at the fore of his booth. The red plume rising from the brim waved like a flag in the hall’s faintly swirling air.
A fanfare of trumpets pealed over the soundsystem. Spotlights lit the north wall like day. Every eye turned toward it.
“Ladies and Gentlestallions!” The announcer’s voice easily broke through the chatter of a thousand ponies. “This year’s Hatwalk Hysteria winners!”
A pegasus hovering beside the furled screen pulled out a peg, and gravity did the rest. The banner unrolled itself down the wall, revealing the winners. Rainbow Dash sucked in a breath and leaned forward, searching for her name at the top.
No, idiot! His name! First? No. Her heart crawled up her throat. Not the next line, either. The world went grey around the edges of her vision. Third? Not even. Her knees wobbled, and she sank to her haunches.
There, fourth. Fourth place. Rainbow Dash stared at the line, her mouth hanging open. The roar of the convention receded like the tide, until it was only a faint mumble.
Fourth. She hadn’t just failed to win, she hadn’t even placed. No medals for Hat Trick, just bitter disappointment and humiliation. Her ears wilted, and she hunched her shoulders like a scolded dog.
There, to her left. An opening in the crowd. She could slink through it and gallop out of the convention center while ponies were still occupied with the winners – they wouldn’t notice her fleeing, and if they did, she was far too fast for them to catch—
“Waha! You did it!” Legs like iron bands wrapped around Rainbow’s shoulders, squeezing the breath from her. She wheezed in Rarity’s grasp. “You did it, Rainbow Dash!”
“What? But—”
“Good job, Miss Dash,” Nutmeg said. He patted her on the shoulder with a hoof. “I assumed you’d do well, of course, but that is outstanding.”
“But…” Rainbow looked back at the scores and read the list again. Yup, still fourth. “But I lost?”
“Lost? Pshaw.” Rarity took Rainbow’s head in her hooves and turned her to face Hat Trick. “Tell me what you see over there, darling.”
Hat Trick was nearly lost in the center of a scrum of ponies. They scrambled around him, cheering, squeezing into wrap him with hugs or thump him on the back. He was crying, she saw – the tears left dark trails down his cheeks – but the smile on his face was large enough for two Pinkie Pies. A few feet away, photographer ponies lit the scene with their flashbulbs, taking dozens of pictures of the Ocean Hat.
“But… he lost?” she mumbled.
“Fourth place isn’t losing, Miss Dash,” Nutmeg said. “And if you’ll recall, he wasn’t even able to compete before you offered your help.”
“Indeed. Fourth place against some of the greatest minds in fashion is admirable.” Rarity gave her another squeeze. “All thanks to you, darling! And me, I suppose, but mostly you.”
“So, uh… really?” Dash’s ears slowly perked back up. “We did good?”
“We did wonderful, darling.” Rarity pressed her cheek against Dash’s, and for good measure reached out to snag Nutmeg and pull him in for a three-way hug. “Just wonderful.”
They stood like that, and Rainbow Dash let herself soak in the roar of the crowd, the cheers, the flashing lights as ponies posed beside the Ocean Hat. She let out a long, shaking breath, and smiled.
“So, is that it, then?” Nutmeg asked. “Mission accomplished?”
“I think so!” Rarity said. She craned her neck to peer back at her flank. “Any moment now, our marks will start glowing, and the magic will be complete!”
They waited a bit more. The hug was starting to become uncomfortable.
“Ah, hm.” Rarity gave her rump a little shake, as though to jog it along. “Well, this is awkward.”
“Yeah, what gives?” Rainbow broke out of the hug and frowned back at her cutie mark. “C’mon, glow! Do something!”
“Maybe we need to talk to Hat Trick?” Nutmeg said. “It’s about friendship, right?”
Oh, yeah. That made sense. Rainbow Dash walked over to the crowd surrounding Hat Trick and pushed her way through. The ponies made way when they saw her, and soon enough she was receiving their congratulations as well. Cameras flashed in her face.
“Hey, Hat Trick!” she shouted to be heard. “You got a moment?”
“Rainbow!” He rushed toward her, and she found herself wrapped in yet another hug. It was becoming a bit of a theme, and not an entirely welcome one. “You did it! Oh, I can’t thank you enough! All of you!”
“Yeah, about that.” Rainbow carefully pried herself loose as Rarity and Nutmeg reached her side. “Do you, uh, feel anything odd, right now? Like some kind of magical friendship thing?”
Hat Trick tilted his head. “Hm. I feel happy. Delighted! I feel… oh, I can’t describe it! Rainbow Dash, you and your friends have turned disaster into the best day of my life! How could I feel anything but gratitude for all you’ve done?”
Rainbow Dash peered back at her cutie mark. Still nothing.
“Well, shoot,” Rarity said.
* * *
“I guess, when you think about it, it wasn’t really a friendship problem,” Nutmeg said. He, alone of the three, still seemed somewhat upbeat over their victory.
“I wore a fancy hat!” Rainbow cried. “I got my hooves polished for this. I hate letting ponies touch my hooves!”
“Oh, calm down,” Rarity said. “So we didn’t solve the crisis we came out here to find. We still managed to do a wonderful thing for that stallion. Oh, and now we get to spend two more days at the Summer Sensation! So really things worked out for the better.”
They had retreated to the quiet, curtained dressing area to plan their next move. Rarity had already drawn up a list of fashion targets for them to hit in the coming days. Just thinking about it made Rainbow Dash’s head ache.
“Why couldn’t it have been monsters?” she whispered. “Monsters are awesome. I can fight monsters.”
“If nothing else, at least we have a story to tell,” Nutmeg said. “And we all made some new friends. That’s worth… say, do you hear something?”
Rarity stopped prattling about fashion. Rainbow stopped muttering about monsters. All three turned in place, their ears swiveling, seeking out the sound.
It was a mare, crying. Rainbow zeroed in on it, pushed through the a partition beside them, and came face-to-face with herself.
She stumbled back. Nutmeg and Rarity gasped. The mare, the other-Rainbow Dash, hiccoughed and ducked away, holding a leg over her face. For a long moment, all three froze.
“Ah,” Nutmeg finally broke the silence. “Prism Slash, I presume?”
The mare slowly lowered her hoof and nodded. She was not, Rainbow Dash now saw, a mirror image – she was an earth pony, for one, and if she weren’t hunched over would have stood several inches taller. Though her mane and coat were the same as Dash’s, her cutie mark was a domino mask, and her limbs were long and slender, her muzzle refined. Were it not for her red, puffy eyes and the inflated cast engulfing one of her hooves, she would have been one of the most beautiful ponies in the entire convention center.
“Er, yes.” Prism Slash sniffled. “How do you know who I am?”
“We’re friends of Hat Trick’s,” Rarity said, stepping forward. “He told us about your accident.”
“Oh.” Prism Slash glanced back at her bandaged ankle. “Yes. I suppose I should be grateful he remembers me, at least. I heard he did well in the Hatwalk, even without me, and, and… oh!” And she broke down again, hunched over, her foreleg shielding her face once again.
“There, now.” Rarity slipped forward and wrapped a leg around Prism Slash’s shoulders. “He doesn’t hold any of that against you, darling. Accidents happen. Why, does he even know you’re here? I’m sure he’d be delighted to see you.”
“No. No.” Prism shook her head. “No, I can’t do that. I can’t let him see me like this! For months I’ve waited, and now it’s too late! I failed him, and now I’ll never be able to tell him how I feel!”
Rainbow frowned. “Wait…”
“How you feel?” Rarity gasped. “Oh! You’re in love, aren’t you! You poor, precious thing! Rainbow, Nutmeg, this must be why the table sent us here! Not to win the Hatwalk, but to bring these two lovebirds together!”
“Hm.” Nutmeg rubbed his chin. “You know, that does seem more friendship-related than a hat show.”
“Exactly!” Rarity held a hoof over Prism’s muzzle, shushing her attempts to speak. “This is wonderful! Why, all we have to do is carefully arrange a plot to bring these two together, and make Hat Trick realize that Prism here is the real treasure he’s been—”
“No. No.” Rainbow stomped her hoof. “Stop that. We’re not arranging any zany hijinks. We’re going to solve this right now.”
* * *
“Hat Trick! Hey, Hat Trick!”
Hat Trick turned toward them. A few stragglers remained, milling around the Ocean Hat, but otherwise he was alone in his booth. The crowds ambled by, slowly filling toward the exits as the convention’s first day drew to an end.
“Rainbow Dash! I was wondering where you three went off to. I was afraid you’d escaped before…” He saw the fourth member of their party and froze. “Prism? But, I thought you’d left!”
Prism limped forward. “I couldn’t leave, Hat Trick. I had to be here, even when I feared you wouldn’t be able to compete in the Hatwalk. And now, look at you! You did better than I ever dreamed, thanks to these three ponies.”
Hat Trick smiled, but it was a sad smile. “I know, but I wish it could have been you, Prism Slash. The only thing that could have made this day greater would be to see you modelling my work.”
Rarity leaned forward. She wrapped a foreleg around Nutmeg and Rainbow Dash and drew them close to whisper. “This is it!”
“Thank you,” Prism Slash said. She stepped closer and cleared her throat. “But that’s not what I wanted to say. These three ponies, they convinced me that I can’t hide my feelings any more. I… I need to tell you something.”
He swallowed. “Yes?”
“Here it comes!” Rarity hissed. Her grip around Rainbow’s neck tightened. Rainbow’s vision began to go grey around the edges.
“All these months, I’ve felt something in my heart,” Prism said. “At first, I tried to deny it, and keep our relationship professional. But last week, when I twisted my ankle and realized I couldn’t model for you, my heart broke! Not because of fashion, but because I couldn’t be at your side. Hat Trick, I… I love you!”
Hat Trick stared at her, his mouth agape. The others held their breaths. Even the crowd seemed to go silent.
“Oh,” he finally said. “Oh! Well. That’s… I… ah, this is awkward.”
Prism Slash seemed to shrink. “It is?”
“Yes. You see, ah…” He cleared his throat. “Well, I thought you knew. I prefer stallions.”
The silence returned.
“Oh. Oh!” Prism Slash blushed. “This… actually explains quite a bit. In retrospect all those magazines suddenly make sense.”
“Yes.” He rubbed his front legs together. “Sorry, I should have been more forthcoming. I didn’t realize you felt this way.”
“That’s fine. It’s nothing.” She waved a hoof. “Water under the bridge. So, friends?”
“Of course. Friends.”
They shook hooves, nodded, then turned and walked away.
Rainbow Dash, Rarity and Nutmeg stood together, wrapped in Rarity’s embrace.
The silence came back again. It lasted a while this time.
“Huh,” Nutmeg finally said. “Didn’t expect that.”
As if on cue, Rarity and Rainbow Dash’s cutie marks began to glow. Images of their marks floated into the air and burst in a shower of magical sparks.
“I hate that table,” Rarity whispered. “I hate it so much.”
* * *
Later, hours later, the three were back in their room at the High Step Hotel. The cold air flowing down from the iceberg high overhead left a layer of frost on their windows, turning the cityscape into a dark, fogged, crystalline expanse just beyond their sight.
Rarity and Rainbow Dash lay on the bed, the Orithyia’s chess board between them. Rainbow Dash slowly set up the pieces while Rarity finished off a tub of double chocolate chunk ice cream in her fuzzy bathrobe. Across the room, Nutmeg sat in the recliner, reading through one of Rainbow Dash’s Daring Do novels.
“Well, at least some good came of this trip,” Rarity said. She tossed her spoon inside the empty ice cream tub and set it aside. “We saw some wonderful fashions, helped a stallion achieve his dream, and repaired a teetering friendship.”
“You made me wear a fancy hat,” Rainbow shot back. She slid her pawn forward two spaces. “And get a manecut.”
“You needed that manecut, darling.” Rarity matched Rainbow’s pawn with her queen’s pawn.
“And I think it looks very nice,” Nutmeg offered.
“See? Thank you, Nutmeg.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Rainbow pushed another pawn out, opening the center of the board. Rarity followed her lead, and for several minutes the only sound in the room was the occasional flip of the page as Nutmeg read.
“I didn’t know you knew how to play chess,” Rarity said after a dozen or so moves. “It doesn’t really strike me as your game.”
“Eh, Nutmeg taught me. He’s better than I am.”
“Ah.” Rarity’s eyes flicked over to Nutmeg, and she smiled. “Perhaps I’ll play him later.”
“Sure, if he wants. Nutmeg, wanna play winner?”
“I’d love to, Miss Dash.”
“Cool.” Rainbow slid her bishop forward, capturing one of Rarity’s pawns.
“Twilight will be excited to hear you’ve taken this up,” Rarity said. She hopped her knight to capture Rainbow’s bishop. “You know, she has a very nice crystal set from—”
“You can’t move that piece,” Rainbow said.
Rarity paused, and a small smile appeared on her face. “Oh, that’s how knights move, darling.” She nudged Rainbow’s bishop, a white marble unicorn, to the side. “Knight’s move in an L-shape, two spaces and then once space to the side. They can go forward or backward, as I am in this—”
“No, I mean, you can’t move that piece,” Rainbow said. “My queen is pinning it.”
Rarity froze and looked down at the board. Her eyes traversed the squares, searching, searching, and then she saw it: Rainbow’s queen, lurking in the back row. It sat on a straight line with Rarity’s king, blocked only by the knight.
“Ah.” Rarity set the knight back in its spot. “Right you are, then.”
The game went on for a little while longer. Then Rainbow Dash played Nutmeg.