Rarity's Genesis

by Impossible Numbers

The Others

That evening, Rarity ran back to her home, through the door, up the stairs, past her mother who yelped in surprise, into her room, and onto the bed, bouncing on the mattress.

She wailed. She rolled about. She burst into tears so violently that they splattered the wall. She buried her face in the pillow as though trying to choke the pain out.

They hate me! They HATE me!

When her mother came in and asked in that stupid whiny voice of hers if she was OK, she smothered herself with the duvet until the tacky-looking mare gave up and went away.

Snob, am I? Liar, am I? I’m not a snob! I’m not a liar! I’m just not some common hick who’ll die unknown and unloved. I’m a Lady. Because I said so!

After a while, she dragged herself out of the duvet. She pulled up the book and flicked through the pages.

Her heartbeat slowed. The clouds of her mind stirred.

The book had to be the key…

Shame flared into rage.

By the time she’d set up canvas and paints, her father had come in. Was she fine? Yes, she was fine. Any problems at school? No, no problems at school. Anything she wanna talk about? Father, I am working.

Guilt nibbled at her soul; she added a much more gracious “No, thank you.” After all, they were asking. Courtesy was the done thing.

He said someone wanted to talk to her. Intriguing: she waved and demanded an audience. Like a Lady to a servant.

Turned out to be Applejack. Rarity curled her lip but absorbed herself with the paints. Her strokes were a bit too vicious.

“Whew,” said Applejack. “Ah din’t know you were a paintin’ genius.”

Yes, I expect there are a lot of things you don’t know. “How can I help?”

“Ah jus’ wanted to say that – at school, Ah mean – Ah thought you deserved that star. Granny always says nothin’ wrong with bein’ s’phisticated. Mah aunt and uncle are s’phisticated.”

“Uh huh.” Rarity continued painting, mostly pink around the edges.

“An’ Ah don’t think you’re a snob, neither.”

“Good.”

“Although… ‘s true you ain’t a lady. An’ you ain’t from Canterlot.”

Rage stung. To be told off by this country hick! “Excuse me, but I am busy. Don’t you have trees to kick? Or a spittoon to spit at?”

She noticed Applejack stiffen, but the filly was a fly buzzing around her picnic table. It was all about the art.

“Please yourself,” muttered Applejack, who left.

I don’t need friends like that, thought Rarity at once. I bet they snigger at her all the time. Wallowing in her own filth…

Rarity stopped painting for a moment.

This didn’t feel right. Surely, a noble mare wasn’t supposed to think like a hive of wasps, stinging everything? A Lady had a noble spirit. This didn’t feel noble. This felt like dirt.

Her brushstrokes became much gentler, much more graceful. Cooling with shame, she ran into the maze of counterstroke and shading and the flush of wet hues on the canvas. Soon, she knew, she would be lost among them, and this dirty, stinging feeling would die away.

Swirling her brush out in the cup of water, she noticed another filly at the door and blinked back into reality.

“Hi?” Sparkler struggled with a smile.

“Uh…” No, not yet. Rarity hid behind the canvas.

“Sorry. I wanted to check you were OK. You looked –”

“I’m fine. Merely painting.” Please go away. Please stay. I don’t want anyone to see me right now. I want someone around who won’t hate me.

“Sure, but… is there… anything I can do?”

Glancing at her, Rarity's mind sparked. After all, she hadn’t decided yet what kind of pony to put in…

Smoothness flowed through her voice. “Actually, yes. If you don’t mind my saying so, you have such a fine face. And your stance!”

Sparkler paled and sank slightly. “Wh-What about it?”

Oh no… She’s going to refuse… Quick!

“I wonder if you could just… stand here for a moment? Perhaps we could have a nice talk. So… you like Winter Wrap-Up, do you?”

Sparkler beamed and began talking. Instantly, Rarity tuned out. She prodded the filly occasionally with a probing question, but ignored the rushing answers. Yes… that outline and that manestyle…

“Can I see?” asked Sparkler suddenly.

Alarm shot through Rarity’s face. “What!? Certainly not! I have no intention of sullying my artwork with – I mean, uh, it’s not ready yet. Thank you. Maybe we can talk tomorrow?”

“Huh?”

Without looking up, Rarity pointed at the door. She’d gotten what she wanted.

Success! I have entered the zone! What a wonderful feeling it was! Huzzah! Now I am a true Lady!

When she looked up, Sparkler was gone.

---

Days passed. Whispers prodded and poked at her in the classroom while the fillies said all sorts of things about her. Funnily enough, the colts were never involved. Neither was Applejack. They just seemed to ignore it and get on with wrestling in the playground, or straining over mathematical problems in class.

Weird, she thought.

Over time, she stopped sticking her hoof up and spoke less and less. What little fire burned in her chest shrank under all the words. Snob. Liar. Pretender. Suck-up. Fool. Playtime was the worst; there, she simply sat next to Sparkler on the same stone. Even Sparkler had to be dragged into conversation these days.

Upon the tenth night, Rarity lay awake in bed. The butterflies in her stomach had become a farm.

“Where did I go wrong?” she mouthed. Not too loudly, in case the darkness heard her.

I’m giving them something. It’s just not the right thing. Oh, do Canterlot Ladies have to put up with this?

What else can I give them? Applejack does fine giving them baked treats and apples, but that’s just… food. Any fool can bring in food. It doesn’t last.

Anyway, it’s a common pleasure. Not fit for a Lady. I need to think… nobler… higher… more courtly…

Inevitably, her gaze turned to the silhouette of the canvas.

No, she thought at once. Oh no. That’s private! Anyway, beauty is delicate and personal. Those ruffians would probably tear the canvas, or make stupid comments like “It’s all right” or “Ooh, pretty”. Beauty must be preserved!

Still.

There had been a lot of whispers.

She squirmed.

Why not, after all? I want to give them a higher pleasure, fit for a Lady. What’s higher than awe and wonder? What’s higher than shuddering before the majesty of art?

She held her mind on the brink for another day, when the whispers prodded it and the colts ignored it and she missed so many questions she could have answered, if only she hadn’t refused to put her hoof up.

Sitting on the step again, she didn’t even try speaking with Sparkler. Sparkler wouldn’t understand. She hadn’t read Guide to Canterlot Etiquette by Prim and Proper. Not that morning in bed, anyway.

A Lady had to have bounty and wealth. Rarity had neither.

A Lady had to give to charity. Rarity was still saving up for a sewing machine.

A Lady had to show kindness and benevolence. That involved giving things, not necessarily money.

Rarity hummed to herself. The idea was sprouting in her head. Even through the next geography class, she let the teacher drone on and focused on the petals blooming across her thoughts.

Someone had mentioned show-and-tell. Why not, after all? There’d be other artworks. Paintings were only the genesis of her ladylike future…

She galloped home that evening. She prepared her speech, stumbling over and rewriting a lot of it. Her mother came up to tell her dinner was ready, but Rarity simply lied about coming down later and asked her to keep it warm. Mother knew about her “painting” moods and gabbled on about it happily.

Dinner could rot for all Rarity cared.

The next day, she finally stood in front of the class. Her knees shook slightly. She’d had no idea how many glares could fit into one classroom. Now she was actually here…

“Um… Ahem…” She cleared her throat and tried a flourish. “Ladies and gentlecolts…”

Someone sniggered. She didn’t see who. Not that it mattered. At once, she crouched down. All fifteen of her planned flourishing gestures were quietly abandoned.

“Um… Well…” To her horror, she barely remembered her own speech. “I… just wanted to show you something I’ve been working on…”

Their glares continued unabated.

Rarity sighed.

“I… wanted to share this with you. It took me a long time to do, but I thought… well, I think I might have done something wrong, so I thought I’d do something right… and, um… I’m quite happy to give it away, if anyone wants it…”

Running out of steam, she immediately turned to bite and pull off the canvas cover. The silence aimed swords at her. Her artwork beamed out at them. She risked a peek.

Gasps. Smiles. Nods of appreciation.

Finally, the world rolled off Rarity’s back and she sighed with relief.

Only Sparkler’s face was blank.