Doing Well by Doing Good

by Baal Bunny

One

Over the years, Rarity had come to realize that there were several matters about which she was rarely mistaken.

A client's measurements, for instance. Yes, she made a show of deploying her tape up, down, over, and across each pony who visited the Carousel Boutique for a fitting, but that was simply for the customer's peace of mind. From fetlock to flank, from withers to chest, both front and rear inseams as well as collar and hat size: one appraising glance was all she needed.

This did, she had to admit, lead to the occasional problem. Such as—

"A perfect size three!" Fashionably Late flexed a bulky pastern. "I've been a perfect size three, my dear Rarity, since my school days." She sighed. "Fil has been enamored of my figure since our very first cotillion, and twenty years of marriage haven't changed me a whit!"

Ever the professional, Rarity didn't allow her smile to so much as waver. "Of course!" She made an entirely fictitious note on her pad and a mental note to multiply the written number by four. "I have Mr. Rich's ensemble in the next room awaiting your approval, but first—" Not allowing her horn to spark the way it wanted to, she smoothly turned to the next page, the page she'd been waiting all week, all month, and in a larger sense, all her life to turn to. "I wanted to show you my preliminary thoughts on the gown you'll be wearing with the Azdariz Diamond."

Just saying the name forced Rarity to stifle another shiver. For while she'd worked with larger gems, none, she was convinced, could hold the proverbial candle to the Azdariz. That she'd been allowed to touch the diamond during Ms. Late's previous fitting session, had been allowed to caress it with her magic and soak herself in the dazzling prismatic reflections and refractions from its surface—

Suffice it to say that the sensations had featured quite prominently in her dreams during the course of the last week.

Intoxicated by the memory of its radiance, Rarity had worked with increasing fervor to design an outfit that would transform Fashionably Late's ever-so-slightly brick-like self into the ultimate display platform for—

"The Azdariz Diamond?" Ms. Late gave a sniff. "Oh, no, my dear. I'll not be wearing that old thing! Honestly! Do you want me to be taken for a provincial?"

One of the other matters about which Rarity was rarely mistaken, she'd found, was her life-long adherence to that simple piece of business advice: the customer is never to be hit over the head with a table. The twitch that seemed to wrench her left eyelid several inches to the side, however, made her consider for the first time in her distinguished career the complete abandonment of this principle.

"Not be wearing it?" That she didn't shriek the words, Rarity felt, should qualify her for an award of some sort. "The single most perfect gemstone ever mined, polished, cut, and set upon a gold chain during any period before or since the founding of Equestria, and you'll not be wearing it?"

Fashionably Late waved one of her double-wide hooves. "A mere bauble, Rarity, I assure you. Besides, Fil sent straight to the jewelry exchange when I misplaced it the other day, and—"

"Misplaced it?" This shriek, unfortunately, would have forced Rarity to return the award had it in fact been presented to her a moment previously. "You—! How—? Where—? When—?"

"Oh, now, really!" Ms. Late pursed her lips. "If I knew the answers to those questions, the diamond wouldn't be lost, would it? All I know is that I brought it here last week, then I tucked it into my bag, ran a few errands around Ponyville, went home, opened my bag, and the diamond was gone. Cloves and the rest of the household staff have spent the week searching here and there for it, but to no avail. So I've arranged for a notice to be printed in tomorrow's newspaper telling anypony who finds it to keep it. I never much cared for the thing anyhow." She shrugged her broad shoulders and gestured to her saddlebags, hanging on the rack beside the fitting room door. "The topaz necklace Fil bought me is much more cosmopolitan, I'm sure you'll agree, and much more complimentary to my coloration."

And yes, it was a perfectly lovely topaz necklace, one that stood out quite well against the acreage of Ms. Late's wine-dark hide. But after the gentle zephyrs of the Azdariz Diamond, the topaz rankled against Rarity's magic as crass as garlic breath, as rough as dried bubble gum and as scratchy as beach sand between the bed sheets.

Nodding, Rarity of course agreed to design a new gown around the necklace, but it wasn't until Fashionably Late had left with many an approving glance at Filthy Rich's outfit for the upcoming Rich Family Spring Social that Rarity realized how truly and thoroughly shocked she'd been. Wandering dazedly into her workshop after locking up the Boutique for the evening, she found herself staring at her fainting couch, still settled in its place against the far wall.

Her dismay—nay, her horror—at the thought of the Azdariz Diamond being lost ran so deeply through her that she couldn't even bring herself to pass out. Instead, her every fiber screamed that action must be taken, that a stalwart response must be made, that this literal shining jewel of Equestrian culture must not be allowed simply to vanish. Or even worse, to vanish into some treasure-seeker's hidey hole.

"But how?" she muttered, her hooves unable to cease pacing her back and forth across the room. Her jewel-finding sense was, of course, splendidly acute, but it didn't function with the sort of specificity required to locate a particular diamond. Still, if the Azdariz had truly been lost somewhere within the city limits of Ponyville, she could easily stroll up and down the streets this evening before the gem's loss became public knowledge—

With her horn glowing like a lighthouse beacon and attracting a great deal of unwanted attention. She could wear a hat, of course, to mask the effects of her magic, but, well, she always attracted attention due to the power of her extreme fabulosity—which, despite Twilight Sparkle's continued insistence to the contrary, was as real a word as any Rarity had ever uttered. Attention would lead to questions, questions would lead to answers, and answers might very well lead to others entering the search for the diamond.

Rarity's chest tightened, shivers racing from her ears to her fetlocks. Yes, most current jewelsmiths considered the Azdariz to be old-fashioned and quaint—"fusty," she'd even heard a colleague call it, a colleague with whom Rarity had so far managed to avoid ever conversing again—but she certainly couldn't help it if most current jewelsmiths were tasteless hacks and boors. It made her stomp a hoof, the thought that somepony like that might come into possession of the diamond. She definitely needed to act tonight.

But how to manage it? How could she search discreetly for a lost gem when she was the most noticeable pony in town?

Comments

[Lurks-no-More]

Just saying the name forced Rarity to stifle another shiver. For while she'd worked with larger gems, none, she was convinced, could hold the proverbial candle to the Azdariz. That she'd been allowed to touch the diamond during Ms. Late's previous fitting session, had been allowed to caress it with her magic and soak herself in the dazzling prismatic reflections and refractions from its surface—

Suffice it to say that the sensations had featured quite prominently in her dreams during the course of the last week.

Are you absolutely sure this shouldn't be listed as "Mature - Jewelry" on FIMfiction, BB?

[Baal Bunny]

5951586

For Rarity:

Gemstones are an emotional experience.

Mike

[Walabio]

I suppose that even in a world where EarthPonies (Raging Mouse uses the adjective "Earthen" and lets ponies be understood) can grow rocks, gems, jewels, et cetera in the ground, extraordinary specimens are still extraordinary.

[Baal Bunny]

5956157

Now I'm seeing:

Booths at the county fair where earth ponies are displaying the best gems from their gardens like folks in our world do with zucchini...

Mike

[Corejo]

I love your portrayal of Rarity here. That opening scene was the first thing to make me laugh out loud in a long while.

[Baal Bunny]

5959087

Thanks!

Putting this story together, I found that Rarity here wanted a narrative voice from the Douglas Adams/Terry Pratchett school. So I gave it my best shot!

Mike

[nemryn]

5957979
Rarity had to quit judging those after the third time a pony tried to show her a topaz with a particularly amusing shape...

[Baal Bunny]

5962446

I think this might tie in:

To the now corrected typo at the beginning of this chapter where I referred to the Carrousel Boutique as "the Carousal Boutique."

Mike

[QueenMoriarty]

The customer is never to be hit over the head with a table.

Even as a night shift janitor, I know this proverb.

[Knight of the Raven]

I love the narration in this - or more specifically, Rarity's voice. It was also interesting to see so many terms related to horse anatomy (pastern, withers, fetlocks and so on and so forth) beyond the usual that's written in fanfictions.

And I concur with Lurks-no-More; Rarity seems much more interested in the Azdariz Diamond than she was in any stallion.

Going back to Rarity's narrative voice, I loved these lines;

But after the gentle zephyrs of the Azdariz Diamond, the topaz rankled against Rarity's magic as crass as garlic breath, as rough as dried bubble gum and as scratchy as beach sand between the bed sheets.

Her dismay—nay, her horror—at the thought of the Azdariz Diamond being lost ran so deeply through her that she couldn't even bring herself to pass out.

She could wear a hat, of course, to mask the effects of her magic, but, well, she always attracted attention due to the power of her extreme fabulosity—which, despite Twilight Sparkle's continued insistence to the contrary, was as real a word as any Rarity had ever uttered.

Rarity's chest tightened, shivers racing from her ears to her fetlocks. Yes, most current jewelsmiths considered the Azdariz to be old-fashioned and quaint—"fusty," she'd even heard a colleague call it, a colleague with whom Rarity had so far managed to avoid ever conversing again—but she certainly couldn't help it if most current jewelsmiths were tasteless hacks and boors.

As well as this one, though it doesnt quite showcase her voice;

One of the other matters about which Rarity was rarely mistaken, she'd found, was her life-long adherence to that simple piece of business advice: the customer is never to be hit over the head with a table. The twitch that seemed to wrench her left eyelid several inches to the side, however, made her consider for the first time in her distinguished career the complete abandonment of this principle.

And I have a couple of comments too;

Ever the professional, Rarity didn't allow her smile to so much as waver. "Of course!" She made an entirely fictitious note on her pad and a mental note to multiply the written number by four.

Ever the professional indeed.

Fashionably Late's ever-so-slightly brick-like self

Euphemisms are such a useful invention.