//------------------------------// // From Start to Crusader // Story: Sweetie Spade and the Diminutive Dozen // by Zebrarian //------------------------------// The whole thing started on a Sunsday. On this particular Sunsday, it was a real downpour. It was really raining cats and frogs on that dark and stormy day (or however else those sayings went). Crusading had been called on account of rain, doubly-so because Rarity wanted her to stand for a fitting later. There was no chance Sweetie would return unsoaked or unmuddy, no matter how many of Scootaloo's plans she turned down, nor how many raincoats her sister wrapped her in. Since they both knew that a clean post-Crusading Sweetie was a lost cause, Rarity found it far easier to just put her hoof down and keep her inside for the day. When she looked at the bigger picture, Sweetie didn't really mind. She wasn't too keen on playing in the rain, and staying around the boutique had benefits: she got to have tea with Rarity when she took her break, she could sneak a few extra cookies once her sister was ' in the zone', and best of all, Rarity had given her a treat for being so agreeable: one of her old Shadow Spade novels to read. So Sweetie had curled up by the window, the plate of cookies in hornsreach, and set to reading. Shadow Spade was so cool. Applebloom would love how clever she was. Scootaloo would love all the dangerous stunts she pulled off to prove her hunches. For her part, Sweetie was amazed by how skillful everyone in the stories were - the barmare mixing drinks, the racing cabbies, the hornplayers, the socialites - every character dazzled in their own way, when she turned the page, as Shadow's keen eye for detail caught everypony at their best. Even when somepony was making sandwiches, the food in this book sounded delicious! As the filly got deeper and deeper into the story, she was thinking about the gloomy shadows that stretched outside the window, the tension of a fan brush on a snare drum – or was it the cocking of someone’s trusty revolver? Sweetie was ready for danger, just like Shadow Spade. "Sweetie, dear! Could you come here, please?" And that's when the whole thing started. Sweetie Belle stars in a Zebrarian production: Sweetie Spade and the Diminutive Dozen The first dress - the Sunsday dress - caught Sweetie's eye right away. Her sister was a creature of habit, almost as much as Twilight Sparkle was, so even though she wasn't sure why it grabbed her attention, something about it seemed ...off. "Wow Rarity! Its b-" "Ah, ah, ah! Rule number three, Sweetie?" The filly bit her lip and had the grace to look apologetic. Her sister had rules when it came to helping in the boutique, and rule number three was one of the harder ones: 'do only what Rarity says'. When Rarity wanted her opinion on how the dress looked, she'd ask for it. Just like if she wanted the teapot brought over or the room straightened up, or, in this case, Sweetie Belle to put a dress on, she'd ask for it. The filly trotted up onto the little platform and patiently let Rarity help her into her latest creation. Sweetie couldn’t remember the last time she’d broken rule three when she stood for a fitting. Rarity sometimes needed her when she was still working on a concept, to see how panels of fabric draped or how lines of the dress flowed against the body. This was usually done with half-finished dresses, easy to pull apart and re-pin while a pony was still wearing them. What had happened just now? A little thrill ran through Sweetie as she realized that there was something off about this dress. In the book she'd been reading, Shadow Spade had only been given a moment to see the room she was in before those thugs pulled the hood over her head. She’d thought the same thing: something was off, just like that. She had decided it was the size of the ransom. While being dragged down the hallway she was dissecting everything she knew about the kidnappers: their accents, the amount of bits sitting in that briefcase, the recent whispers in the news - by the time she'd been dumped in her cell, she'd been confident enough to start speaking perfect Bovin to the minotaur princess, even though the cow hadn't made a sound. While Shadow still had a blindfold on. So cool. Could Sweetie do that? What did she know about this dress? Could she weave the story together the same way Shadow did in her books? This dress was weird because it was done. If it wasn’t a finished dress, then she wouldn’t have thought to compliment it, right? Sweetie glanced down to confirm her suspicions. Her sister's latest work was a study in restraint: layers of multicolored fabric, but all in those cooler hues that showed up in the sky while the sun was on the horizon. It wasn't too frilly or stuffy, either: Sweetie could feel she has some range of motion, proper for an active filly - but it still felt... sedate. All of its layers were light, with just enough ruffle to indicate it was meant more for sitting to tea than for climbing a tree. There wasn't any beading or finishwork on the front, but it didn't look like this one was going to need that. It was so nice already… yeah, it had to be done! So what did that mean? Was Rarity super-inspired about this dress, and hadn't been able to pause sooner? She stared down at her hooves while Rarity's field tickled the fabric near her hindleg, then her flank, then placed a pin. No, it wasn’t that. This was the sort of fitting she did for a customer. Maybe it was for someone who lived far away - if that was the case, she couldn't come all the way to Ponyville just to fit a dress, right? The filly smiled. She had a mystery on her hooves: Sweetie Spade was on the case! A suspicious package, for a suspicious mare! While the innocent and talented Miss Rarity worked her craft, she would never realize... Realize what? Sweetie frowned, and thoughtfully tapped one hoof against the platform she stood upon. "Careful, Sweetie." Rarity admonished softly. The filly bit her lip – was Rarity stressed? Hmm. ...worked her craft, worked herself to the bone, pouring her soul out for a mystery patron who would never appreciate the intricacies of her work... "Bend your knees, Sweetie?" She bent. "A couple more times?" The felt-covered platform squeaked merrily as Sweetie Belle rocked atop it, bending and straightening like a runner before a race. The shifty platforms on the catwalk kept Sweetie Spade out of the rain, but that was the only nice thing she could say about them. With every step, it sounded like her hoof would go right through the rotting wood... Rarity's field pinched the back of the dress just past her shoulders. "Flex, dear?" It finally clicked, as Sweetie recognized these exercises. No wonder this dress felt lighter than her sister's usuals. These motions were to simulate how wings pulled on fabric, so this must be for a pegasus filly. "Are you going to lift me?" Rarity, who had moved around to her front, smiled. "Yes dear. Are you ready?" "Okay." Sweetie nodded, and a moment later was wrapped in her sister's glow. Both of them tried to stay quiet - Rarity because grunting was unladylike even though her sister was a growing filly - and Sweetie because no matter how many times Rarity did this, it always tickled. Dangling helplessly above the harbor, Sweetie Spade struggled against the snare while she tried not to fall into the icy waters below! "Right. Again?" Rarity prompted, her tingly field doing a great deal to stimulate Sweetie’s best imitation of a pony in flight with more mid-air knee-bends and shoulder-wiggles. The fabric gave where it needed to, and could cling where it didn't. Once she had lowered Sweetie Belle back to her hooves, the filly was squirming and huffing her way through the invloluntary smile she was trying to suppress. She felt a hoof stroke her mane - and saw that Rarity looked as pleased as Opalescent with a bowl of fresh cream. "Perfect. Thank you, Sweetie Belle.” “You’re welcome! What else?” “Well I would like to finish this one up, it would be quicker if you wear it though..." The tailor was practically in tears. She stood on the other side of the desk, purse tight in her hooves. Sweetie Spade flinched, knowing that her curiosity was going to get the best of her. She couldn’t just leave a new friend out in the cold, not after she’d gotten involved… Sweetie pouted a little. Rarity wanted her to spend another twenty minutes of standing like a statue while she threaded her needle and replaced pins, and finalized all her paneling? She nodded. “Okay,” but before Rarity could squee and thank her and dive back into her work, "…could you bring the book over though? We can find a good place for me to read from?" Rarity only hesitated for a moment - bad posture could ruin the whole exercise, after all - but Sweetie clearly knew that or she wouldn't have asked so carefully. Generosity won out, and her copy of Shadow Spade and the Branded Boxes floated over. "Enjoying it, dear?" "Uh-huh! She's really smart!" "She certainly is. An eye for detail!" "And she remembers everything! And knows, like, everypony!" "Truly a mare of the world. I think you'll like some of the other dresses in this commission, Sweetie. They're eclectic, but some are quite cosmopolitan, just like her!" Alarm bells went off for Sweetie Belle. Other? That didn't sound right. ‘Other’ like a line of dresses? But… she'd said it was a commission. When the other shoe dropped, Sweetie was ready to kick herself. How many times was she going to fall for a couple of tears? There was always a catch, and some days she was sure her cutie mark should have been a fish on the hook, because she always ended up caught! "How many?" "Oh dear..." Rarity tittered, and gave Sweetie Belle a sneaky look. "...well I suppose it is as good a time to tell you as any. I'm going to have a lot of work for you this week.” Her blue eyes glittered. "There's a dozen." Sweetie did a double-take. "A dozen?" No, a triple-take. "Wait. Rarity. But they're-" "Mmmhmm...?" Sweetie could hear her sister's tongue as it merrily rolled around in her mouth. It was like she was enjoying a bite of the world's tastiest cake. Wow. She couldn't believe that Rarity had been able to keep quiet about this for so long - she was always such a blab when she had good news! An order for a dozen dresses on commission? That was half a season's work! Maybe a whole season's! This dress wasn't just odd, it was a full-on weird now. The number of dresses had turned her triple-take into a quadruple-take, and she still hadn't gotten to react to the triple-part! "But they're sized for a filly!" she exclaimed, trying to catch up to her own surprise. "I know!" Rarity's forehooves jittered up and down, nearly pulling her into a Pinkie-pronk. "Isn't that fabulous? I so rarely get to work for juniors, especially ones with such marvelous taste." Sweetie had to make a face at that. 'Juniors' would also outgrow those dresses super-fast. Every bit of allowance Sweetie had ever earned was probably enough to buy one of the bolts of fabric that would go into a dress like that. A filly rich enough to earn a dozen would have to be- The mysterious heiress to the Pegasus fortune was asking for more than the tailor could provide, and wasn’t used to hearing anyone say ‘no’. She needed help. Sweetie needed information. Sweetie wriggled on her hooves, trying to think. Rarity happily started in on the dress again, humming delightedly to herself. She was in all her glory at the moment (Sweetie even though she detected some Minnesoatsan twang in her notes). Her smile was getting confident, too. Smug, even, nearly reaching Opalescent levels. Sweetie knew just how important commissions were in the grand scheme of things for Carousel Boutique. It was a song Rarity had played on a particularly small and well-tuned violin (or however the saying went) before. The mare had explained that there was a difference between merely being known as an excellent dressmaker and being well-known as a famously fantastic fashionista. No matter how Rarity adapted things for the Boutique's newest line or season, the showroom was a funny thing, a sort of insurance - it protected her reputation, not her purse. At the most, by updating it she was making an effort to not let her brand degrade. Day-to-day, the real bits were often in commissions. Whether Pinkie's balloon needed an industrial patch job or Bonbon needed a new apron, Silver Spoon had outgrown last year's whatever, or a pony in town to visit Mayor Mare had ripped a seam on something and had a fashion emergency - it was the little jobs which added up. Rarity was generous with her time, which at least meant that the citizens of Ponyville were generous with their business. A few extra bits a week often turned into bigger projects down the line, but that was where Sweetie’s problem came up. Sometimes, a pony had a 'confidential' order, which her sister delivered during an evening stroll after supper, with a paper-wrapped parcel balanced on her back. Those always paid the best. A dozen of those was going to be a huge boost to her purse, but since it was a private request, Rarity probably wasn’t going to say anything about who it was for. So what would Shadow Spade think? Rarity was super-excited about this project. Super-worried about it, too. All the bits that were coming in for this one had to be significant. Super-rich, super-snooty ponies that would order a dozen foal-sized dresses at once would have to live somewhere like Canterlot, wouldn't they? Sweetie Spade watched as the glittering nobles stepped out of their carriages. Each pony was more beautiful than the last, and richer than the whole crowd of onlookers that she was bunched up with. Why in the world had she taken a job like this? There was no way she could- Ooh. Sweetie put the brakes on her train of thought. She was so excited about this mystery-fitting, and all the strange stuff collecting around it, that she was getting distracted from the important part. Rarity had said she had a lot of work for her, didn't she? She finally connected the dots. "Wait! You want me to fit a dozen dresses?" That would take forever! Sweetie huffed, and lowered her head slightly, ready to withstand the onslaught of big, sad eyes and pitch-perfect whining which Rarity would use to make her surrender. "I do." Uh-oh. Far worse than begging, that sneaky look came back all double-Opaly and confident and proud. Sweetie tilted her head. Now Rarity had her interest. Whatever this big, weird, sneaky, mysterious deal was, it had been important enough that Rarity had kept all of it a secret until the last minute, and now she wanted Sweetie in on it? Foalish excitement was a tough thing to turn away from. Shadow Spade would be proud. "But.. isn’t that a lot?" Sweetie suggested, not sure how nice that sounded once she say it out loud. It wasn't really hard to do, and usually she didn't mind doing it, either! Putting a price on the not-chore when she had always been happy to help out before seemed wrong. ...except that she would have to do it all week! Sure, her hooves would hurt from standing still all this time, but she didn't want to be so ...mercenary? "Oh you know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, don’t you?" Rarity winked and went back to work, her field aglow all around them. "Trust me, it is definitely going to be worth it." They both knew that talking about it was just a formality. Less because of Rarity's promise, and more because a certain little filly loved knowing she was able to help her sister out. The smaller of the pair carefully reached up to brush her mane back. She knew the steps in this dance even better than Shadow knew how to tango. This time, she had an ace up her sleeve, too: a mystery she wanted solved. Sweetie Belle's ears rapidly switched between perking up in excitement and flattening in consternation. How was she going to angle this to solve her problem? "...And, if you agree to it, we can go to the bookstore and buy the new Shadow Spade novel when you finish with my other ones." Rarity continued, not yet realizing that she’d already made the sale. Her field primly tilted The Branded Boxes up a bit, putting it in slightly better light for Sweetie to focus on again. "And it isn't like you'll be bored while I work, with plenty of time to catch up on your reading." The sob story didn’t work on Sweetie Spade, but cold hard bits had a way of calling out to her. Besides, if there was one thing she hated, it was never seeing how a story ended. Sweetie nodded. "Deal!"