30 Days of Temptation

by LuminoZero

Day 2: First Impressions

Rarity knew the importance of punctuality. That was why she rose with the sun the next morning. She slipped her face mask off with a very unladylike yawn, looking out the window into the Canterlot streets. For a moment she was confused, wondering why she was not in Ponyville. Her mind caught up to her soon enough, reminding her of the importance of her trip. That was right, she was going to meet Fancy Pants' nephew, the artist, today.

She slipped out of the incredibly comfortable bed in this new penthouse, her hooves landing on the carpeted floor. She moved over to the vanity mirror, and began her morning preparations, starting with her mane. After all, a lady must always look presentable. It was roughly an hour later when she was finally ready. Her morning routine was essential, but sometimes the sheer volume of it could even wear on her nerves. Thankfully, she decided to avoid dressing to impress for this meeting. Fancy Pants had asked her because of how she worked, and she didn't get primped for work... relatively speaking. Well she wasn't like Applejack, who would just roll out of bed and go to work, sweet Celestia, no! She had a reputation and, more importantly, her own self image to think about.

The penthouse Fancy Pants had set her up at was splendid. Not a match for the room she'd had at the Royal Palace, but certainly a lovely bit of pampering. She had been a bit surprised when she moved in last night to find that the kitchen inside had even been fully stocked! At first she imagined that it would be empty, since the idea of a guest here being able to cook was enough to make her laugh. However, Fancy Pants had displayed his unique style and wisdom once again. The entire penthouse had the furnishings of a middle-upper-class abode. Nothing so high and mighty that it was all for looks, but a finer catalogue of items then she was used to. Practical, but pampered at the same time.

As she prepared to leave for the studio, she stumbled over something. She caught herself quickly, the very picture of grace and poise, as she looked back at the offending item: a small blue traveling suitcase. She snapped up quickly, having almost forgotten. Her horn glowed, shifting the case over to the table. The locks snapped free, allowing the lid to pop open and reveal a few items. The first were precious dressmaking supplies: some of her more delicate fabrics, and a small group of expertly cut gems. Nestled carefully among them was a small item wrapped in the most basic and bland cloth the unicorn owned. That was what her magic lifted up, the fabric not shifting an inch. It had been so carefully wrapped that it would not slip free unless someone unwrapped it, as she was doing right now. It only took another moment until the red gleam of the familiar gem met her eyes.

This necklace had inspired a good number of her outfits before. Just looking into its pristine facets made her head swim with so many memories. Sometimes it was nice to just lose oneself in memories, to get your mind away from your work. After all, if you stared too close at something, you could never see the true beauty of the design. A little distance was imperative to truly appreciating what was before you. Rarity clasped the accessory into place, allowing it to fit snugly around her neck. She checked herself once more in the mirror, and smiled at what she saw there. Perfect.

"Well my darling Spike. Let's hope this artist is half as good an assistant as you are."

It was with those words that she left the penthouse, heading down the street towards her new studio. The place where she would create for the next month. Only time would tell if she had the skill that was needed for this.

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Rarity was worried at first when she took a good look at the studio today. No inspiration room, pristine and unused tools, everything brand new and just waiting for her touch.

It felt unnatural.

For some time she just walked around the studio, looking from the ponyquins to the sewing table to the rolls of freshly purchased fabric. It seemed almost surreal, like she'd walked into some kind of dream. Eventually, she forced herself to sit down at the sewing table. She knew, better then anypony back home, that you could not force inspiration; it either came to you, or it didn't. All you could do was try to spark it by doing different things, by trying something new, or by just relaxing.

She pondered for a moment, wondering how everypony back home was. Fluttershy was watching Opal for her, Rainbow Dash was off training with the Wonderbolts, Applejack was hard at work on her farm by now, Pinkie... hah. The thought of what the party-loving pony could possibly be doing came up blank for the fashionista. Anything you could think of could be a reasonable answer. What about Sweetie Belle and her Cutie Mark Crusader friends though? Oh! Wait a moment, Sweetie Belle's birthday was in two months! A good distance of time, certainly, but it was better to have a gift earlier rather than later! Her magic called to the rolls of fabric, grabbing a roll of scarlet. Hmm, red for Sweetie Belle? Yes! Yes, she could see it now! Rarity didn't seem to think as her horn picked up a piece of paper from the side of the room, the quill flying over it and outlining the design her mind had just created. Now, it wasn't a formal gown like her wedding dress, so it would have to be more durable than normal. Maybe for a semi-formal occasion. Knowing how rowdy her sister could be, maybe it should be a lot more durable than normal.

A ringing sound met her ears, telling her that someone had just entered her shop. She paid little attention to it as her quill continued sketching out the designs of the dress. "Just a minute!" she called in a sing-song voice. If there was any response, she did not hear it. In about another minute, she'd finished the drawing, and looked down at her design. It seemed to be missing something, but the spark was gone for the time being. She realized that someone had entered her shop a moment ago, and this thought started her brain working again. She wasn't in her shop in Ponyville, this was a private studio. She had gotten here so early this morning in order to meet someone. Someone had walked into this studio and she had pretty much ignored them, so caught up in her work. She whipped around quickly, an apology already forming on her lips.

What she saw was surprising, to say the least. A unicorn, coat as white as hers. It might have been more so, if that were at all possible. The rising sun seemed to glisten off of the long mane of blond hair. He flashed a charming smile, which only made the bile rise in her gut to look at him. This was not a fledgling artist, this wasn't even a gentlecolt, this was the biggest and most loathsome royal pain she'd ever has the displeasure of meeting.

Prince Blueblood.

"Well it is about time. It is rude to keep royalty waiting," he spoke, looking about the studio. He was clearly looking down his nose at what was present, even if none of Rarities designs adorned the walls yet. She wasn't sure what he could possibly be so snide about, but she didn't care.

"I'm sorry, this studio is currently excluded to those without taste, manners and class. You'll have to come back later, or never," she spoke, not even giving him the pretense of polite company. She'd happily place him on her sewing table and see if she couldn't seal that fake smile of his.

"As charming as a bull, just like those country ponies. How have you been, pretending you are part of the real elite of Equestria?" he shot back at her, that self-satisfied smirk never leaving his lips. Rarity felt her anger peaking, but the prince continued without waiting for an answer. "I'm not actually here to see you, shocking as that might be. I heard that my good friend was to be working on his art here. What should I find to greet me but some country mare pretending to be a high-class pony."

Rarity didn't let her anger get the best of her, though she really wanted to. Really, really wanted to. "If you are referring to Fancy Pants' nephew, Penned Portrait, he is not here yet. Now leave," she spoke, turning back towards her sewing table. She knew that this would be a bad time to work on the design. She was angry, and more likely to make a mistake because of it. Sweetie Belle deserved better than that.

"What makes you think that you can just order a royal to leave? If I wished I could take this pitiful hovel from you right now, and toss you out onto the street until you learn proper respect for your betters!" he announced haughtily, waiting for her to concede and apologize. Nopony in Canterlot dared to stand up against his royal stature, even nobles were no match for royalty.

Rarity turned around again, her horn glowing blue as she approached the prince with a sweet smile that screamed of anger. The prince's horn began to shimmer in response, though he could not remove the shock from his expression. Would she seriously attack a royal? No, of course not, it was merely a bluff. Still, she spoke, "This is the last time I will ask. The door is right behind you. Use it and have some manners if you ever return."

Blueblood met her gaze, not allowing himself to be bullied by this smaller mare. "No," he responded, refusing to budge an inch.

Rarity's smile only widened. "I was hoping you'd say that."

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It had been a long time since he'd been here. Canterlot was his home, but it never really felt like home. He'd arrived at his uncle's last night, but today was the important day. The blue-furred unicorn always liked his uncle most of all; he was the only pony that seemed to see his art for what it was. His direct family? They just wanted to see him famous, bringing honor and reputation to the family name. His uncle, however, had never mentioned him being famous, or even him being successful. He always spoke of inspiration, of finding his 'spark'. After many teachers and private talks with other artists, his family had decided the boy needed to expand his horizons. And so he went on a trip all around Equestria, seeing different art styles, speaking to many different artists, and seeing much of what the world had to offer.

And still, his canvas seemed so empty. He could copy what he saw in a flash, recreate it in an instant. His cutie mark, an ornate mirror, had always helped him with that. He could reproduce things with exact quality after a single look. Even weeks later, he could still remember what the skyline of Manehatten looked like. He could copy it to canvas right now, without even a thought. Many would say it was amazing, a perfect representation even. Those were hollow compliments, because to him it was nothing. He wasn't creating, he was imitating. He'd lost hope a while ago that he'd ever be able to really find a drive to create something of his own. He'd accepted that his cutie mark meant for him to be a recorder, someone who remembered forever how things actually were. A perfect memory, and no creativity.

He'd wanted to refuse this offer, to just give up already. His uncle, however, had been so excited when he spoke of this mare, this fashion designer. He didn't wish to disappoint his uncle, so he'd agreed to try this. Thirty days, that wasn't so long. He could try this for another thirty days, and then put an end to this farce. Perhaps there was something beyond being an artist for somepony like him, maybe there was something more to life then one's name and cutie mark .

A loud crash of broken glass interrupted the silver-maned stallion's thoughts as he looked up in shock. The streets were mostly empty, it was still rather early, but it looked like something serious had just happened. Sweet Celestia! Some unicorn had just come flying through a storefront window! What in Equestria was going on here? This area was supposed to be free of those kinds of ruffians!

Rarity, meanwhile, turned around so she could look out the now-smashed storefront window. The stallion lying in the street, with a nice pair of hoofprints indented into his once pristine suit, seemed positively stunned by this outcome as his mind struggled to catch up. He'd been expecting her magic, and he'd been ready to counter anything she would throw at him with the practiced skill of a noble unicorn. And then she'd spun on her forelegs so quickly he could barely follow it, and sent both of her hind legs right into his chest. The pain had been great, but the damage to his ego was greater still. "W-What...?" he began, coughing from his trip to the ground, and groaning in pain from the collection of cuts the trip through the window had given him.

"Oh, did I neglect to mention? My dear friend Applejack, one of those country ponies you mentioned, taught me the secret of a good bucking kick. How did I do?" she asked with a smile. She was clearly enjoying this far more than a lady should. Even as she finished speaking, her horn was glowing, picking up the pieces of glass from the ground and the few shards from the prince. Glass was not technically a gemstone, but its traits were similar, so her expertise in handling it paid off. She spun the shards slowly, flicking the remaining drops of blood from the few shards that had embedded themselves in him, before moving them towards the window frame like a giant jigsaw puzzle. With a flash of light, the pane was whole again, and she moved to the door, looking outside at the royal stallion lying in the street. "Please, pick yourself up dear Prince Blueblood. It is unbecoming for such a noble stallion such as yourself to be in such a position." The desire to laugh was so great she felt she might explode, but she held it in.

Blueblood said nothing more. He rose, thoroughly humbled, and galloped off down the street as fast as his injuries would allow him. He ran the opposite way from the stunned artist, who knew for a fact that was the studio he was heading to.

And the mare he was to meet had just kicked a prince through her front window. He began to wonder if his uncle was totally sane when he spoke so highly of this unicorn. She had not yet returned to the inside, but instead seemed to take notice of him as she turned her head.

"Oh, no need to worry, darling! Just a bit of a lesson in manners," She offered by way of explanation, turning to enter his shop. The artist gulped once, and then called out to her.

"M-Miss Rarity?" he questioned. 'Please not her, please not her, please not her...'

She turned to look at him again. "Yes, darling, I am Rarity. Are you Penned Portrait, by chance?" she asked, looking him over.

'Crap.'

His expression told her everything she needed to know. He'd seen her little outburst, and was instantly put off by it. Of all the bad luck! "Well, you have no need to worry, darling. I'm not usually like that, the dear prince just seems to bring out the worst in me," she spoke, trying to laugh it off. Oddly enough, it worked.

Portrait knew of Blueblood's... reputation. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been slapped by a mare for his behavior. Though he wondered what the haughty stallion had done to get himself kicked through a window. "I-I can believe that," he answered simply, moving towards her slowly, as if afraid she was going to bite him, or perhaps kick him. Rarity sensed this and moved back towards the studio.

"Well, make yourself at home, darling. I am going to put on a pot of tea, and we can get to know each other a bit. After all, I need to know something about who I am trying to inspire." She said with a pleasant smile, holding the door for him as he approached. Predictably, the act of her holding the door for him made him speed up to not keep her waiting. That gentlecolt behavior that was ingrained in them at a young age was certainly charming. Well, good, he already had a leg up on his 'friend'. She moved into the studio, still looking as pristine as she'd left it, with the exception of a small stack of fabric that had been knocked over by the altercation. Her horn glowed dimly, and she quickly righted them as she walked past. "So, Fancy Pants tells me you just got back from a trip around Equestria," she started as she worked on preparing some tea. "That must have been quite an interesting trip."

Portrait slipped into the studio, letting the door slide shut behind him. He was still on his guard around her, but she seemed alright. Well, aside from the kicks—that was still a little weird. Wasn't she afraid of repercussions for assaulting a royal? He felt the need to bring that up. No sense getting to know her if she was about to be arrested. "It was, but I am afraid I need to ask a question first. Umm... you knew that Blueblood was a prince, so aren't you worried about what he might do?" He asked, shuffling his hooves nervously.

Rarity paused and looked back to him with a bright smile, but saw his apprehension. She toned down her own emotions, and decided to give him the answer he requested. "Oh not at all. Who would he speak to? His aunts? Or perhaps the new princess, Twilight?" she asked. Clearly the stallion did not know why she was so brazenly speaking of the three most powerful ponies in Canterlot.

"Yes! I mean, him being slapped by a mare is one thing, but what you did was assault! The royal guards could be on their way right now!" he said, clearly exasperated. Rarity, however, heard the whistling of the tea kettle and held out a hoof.

"Hold that thought, darling." She said, grabbing the kettle with her magic and pouring some of the tea into two cups, which she sat on opposite sides of a small table. "Tell me, do you get this excited when you work?"

If he hadn't thought she was mad for what she'd done earlier, he certainly thought so now. She didn't even seem to care about how much trouble she would be in! Would he get dragged into it because he was here with her? Or would they just ignore him because he had nothing to do with it? "I don't... I think I should be going," he started, heading for the door. Rarity just sighed.

"Sit, darling. Everything is perfectly fine. I was just trying to get a gauge for your artistic temperament as it were. Prince Blueblood is of no concern to me, because he knows better than to try and convince Princesses Celestia, Luna, or Twilight that what I did to him was not deserved. I have, after all, spoken with all three of the princesses in length, on numerous occasions. Why, I personally made Princess Twilight's coronation gown," she said, starting to feel herself puff up a bit from all of her ego stroking.

Portrait seemed to be trying to digest this new information, but he didn't seem to believe her quite yet. Rarity sat at the table, gesturing to the cup on the other side. "Sit," she commanded. "It is very rude to keep a lady waiting you know."

And he sat, still stunned, but imitating Rarity as he lifted his cup with his magic. He took a small sip of the tea, and instantly felt his nerves calming. "My friend Fluttershy introduced me to this tea. It is simply delightful for calming down after a difficult day. Now then, I can see it is going to bother you, so would you like to hear the story of how I met Princess Twilight?" she asked, full well knowing what the answer would be. She sighed with a smile and sipped her tea as the stallion nodded slowly. "Well, it all began during one Summer Sun Celebration..."

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Rarity hadn't realized how long she had been gabbing on. He'd just been so interested in her stories, and she always did love being the center of attention. The epic tales of Nightmare Moon and Discord, talking about her friends and their accomplishments, which ranged from talking down a dragon to the legendary Sonic Rainboom. (Some parts of the latter story were left out for her own sake.) It was not until she felt the pang of hunger inside of her that she realized they'd spent almost the entire morning with her recounting her stories of life in Ponyville. She'd realized, in the midst of telling them, just how blessed she was for the friends she had. "My, I have been talking your ear off. It is already afternoon!" she stated, rising from the table as she looked outside. Sure enough, the sun was high in the sky by now, and she couldn't help but grin when she recalled what had started the conversation. "And that concludes my explanation as to why I do not fear Prince Blueblood. And trust me, darling, those are only half of the stories I could tell."

The poor artist seemed a bit floored by all the tales she had regaled him with. They seemed so unbelievable, but the way she recounted them seemed so real. He wanted to believe that she was telling the truth, but to believe that somepony he'd never heard of could have had that much of an effect on the world was incredible. He'd known about the bearers of the Elements of Harmony, but very few ponies were able to go to the ceremonies honoring them. Even fewer were privileged enough to see the Record of Heroes in the Throne Room, with the windows that depicted their greatest events. Sitting across the table from one of them seemed like it was some kind of a dream. "But why?" he asked, causing her to turn. "With how important you are, why would you waste time with ponies like us?"

And Rarity paused to look back at him. Not at all the kind of question she'd expected to hear from a noble. "You are right, I suppose. I could walk up to every noble that ever looked down on me and my friends. I could wave my Element right under their nose. I could remind them that I have spoken personally with all of the alicorns of our great kingdom, and that I have my likeness on those grand windows of the Throne Room," she began, returning to the table. "I could do all that and more, but what value comes from vanity? I didn't fight Nightmare Moon and Discord so that everypony would respect me, I did it because it was the right thing to do. And you should not wish to be rewarded to do what any pony should be expected to do. If I wish to succeed in the world of fashion, it will not be because I am the Element of Generosity, but because I am Rarity, the finest fashionista in Ponyville. Someday my designs will take all of Equestria, from Canterlot to Manhatten!" she declared with pride. She'd always known she could take the shortcut to fame, but as she'd tried to teach Sweetie Belle, shortcuts were dangerous: you got to where you were going with none of the knowledge you needed to survive there.

Plus, the idea of taking advantage of her Element to fulfill her own goals just filled her with a sickness. Yes she wanted fame, but she didn't want it that way. The Elements were not something to throw around to curry favor. "So now, what about you, darling? What is it you desire? What is your dream?" she asked the artist, who was surprised to find himself being interrogated again. He stalled, running a hoof through his blue coat.

"Well... I do want to be an artist.. but it is complicated. I want to inspire people, I want to fill them with ideas and passion. Hah, ironic that I can't find any of that myself," he grumbled. Rarity was up and next to him in a moment.

"It's like I tell my sister all the time, things happen when they are ready to. Nopony can rush it, and inspiration is not different. When you do find it, I am sure you will be an excellent artist. But until you do, I would be happy to help you find a way to such a selfless dream," she paused, thinking for a moment. "May I see some of your artwork?" she asked, gesturing to one canvas set up on one side of the studio.

He swallowed hard, looking to the canvas as if it were some vile enemy. "I'm... not sure Miss Rarity," he began, before she cut across him.

"It is Rarity, just Rarity."

"Ah, all right Mi... Rarity," He started again. "I can draw something, I suppose. But, well..." he paused. "I guess it is better to show you," he finally relented, moving over to the canvas as his horn began to glow. In an instant, a collection of paints, brushes and other supplies began floating around him, seemingly held in a stationary orbit as he began attacking the canvas. The speed with which a landscape appeared on the canvas was astonishing. He had no references, he didn't even pause to think. His brushes seemed to move with a mind of their own, as the practiced artist ordered them about dutifully.

Rarity saw the majestic skyline of Manehatten forming upon the canvas, but said nothing. This continued for nearly half an hour, with her silently observing his work and style. He certainly had all the determination and fire that she did, so what was the problem? He had that same focused stare, those same deft motions, and he certainly had the raw talent. He finished, setting his tools down, and she moved up to inspect the piece. "That was some amazing usage of magic, darling. I don't think I have ever seen somepony multitask with their magic like that before, even Twilight. It looks just like the real thing," she commented, declining to mention that she'd never personally been to Manehatten.

"It basically is the same thing," He responded bitterly. He could tell by the look of confusion on her face that she did not understand why that was a problem. "I remember everything, Rarity. Perfect clarity, perfect memory. This is exactly what the skyline of Manehatten looked like when I gazed upon it, down to the smallest shadow or scrap of litter. Everything, from the color of the hat the stallion on the corner wears, to the number of birds in the flock above the leftmost building, is exactly as I remember it. It is not that I cannot create art, Rarity," he explained, "it is that I cannot create."

Rarity finally understood the problem, the real problem. "Your family does not know you can do this, do they?" she asked, cutting right to the point. Portrait looked downright shocked by her suggesting that. "Because if they did, they would already think you a great artist. With a skill like this, you would certainly not be a starving artist. You would be famous in an instant with the ability to paint like you can."

He nodded, looking at the painting like it were some horrible plague. "I'm not a artist, I am a photographer with brushes," he lamented, looking over the 'masterpiece'.

Rarity had one question that still bothered her though. "If you have been hiding this for so long, why show me? Why risk revealing to your family what you are capable of?"

"It doesn't matter. I only agreed to this because I respect my uncle more than any other pony alive. Once this is over, I'm done with art. Perhaps my skill can be used for something else," he mused, clearly depressed.

Rarity just shook her mane out, a confident smile upon her face. "Well then, it's fortunate that I am very familiar with deadlines! Get a new canvas, we're starting over," She ordered, much to his confusion. "If you cannot draw something you have seen, then we'll try drawing something you have never seen. I gave my word to your uncle I would do my best to nurture your gift, and I do so hate breaking my word. So now, I want you to draw the old castle in the Everfree forest that I described to you."

He just looked at her as if she were mad. "How can I draw something I have never seen? That is impossible." Rarity just laughed in response.

"Impossible? Darling, I do it every day," she said, gesturing to the outfit she'd designed for Sweetie Belle earlier that very day. "Now relax, and listen as I describe it again."

Author's Note:

Once again, a huge thanks to fferror for his amazing work proofreading this chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed seeing the story really get started, because now it's time to put it in gear!

-Lumino

Comments

[APoeticHeart]

Very patient and dedicated teacher Rarity can be. Also she is very encouraging.

[LuminoZero]

3272903 And it has only just begun! It'd be a really uneventful thirty days if it ended that quickly though. :P

I wanted to portray that Rarity understands the pain of a creator, as she likely was there herself. When she was just starting out as a designer, not being able to make that one real outfit that set her on her way. That takes patience, and more importantly, dedication.

Thanks for the comment, and I am glad you enjoyed this chapter!
-Lumino