Knitting Encouragement

by Impossible Numbers

A Novelty Yarn

Rarity had just gotten her cutie mark. Only now was it dawning on her that she’d bought a one-way ticket for life.

What should have happened – she was sure, as she sat up to her sewing machine and idly fed the cotton sleeve through – was a flash of insight, a flash of light on her flank, and an ever-blazing joy at finally having her life’s calling revealed to her.

Well, the flashes had done their part. It was the ever-blazing joy that was giving her trouble.

Three diamonds shone on her haunches, and she stopped to look at them again. Obviously, the diamonds matched the gemstones she’d found in the geode. Jewellery, she’d decided, was where her full potential lay. And if she thought more broadly, then beauty and refinery featured in there too. The teacher had explained to her the subtler points of cutie mark symbolism.

No, she thought angrily, and she pressed down harder on the sleeves and clenched her jaw. This is a match made in heaven. Stop worrying about it.

She got as far as sewing the sleeve to the main body of the dress before the question ambushed her.

What if I got it too soon? Maybe cutie marks are just the best thing that first comes along. And if something better comes along later…

I don’t know what, exactly, but still…

Someone knocked at the door of her studio. Rarity groaned.

“Come in!” she said without looking round. The hinges creaked. She made a mental note to oil them later.

“Rarity!” said a voice brimming with cheer. “I can’t tell you how wonderful those costumes were last night! Mom said I was the prettiest little thing on the stage, and I have you to thank for it!”

Inwardly, Rarity giggled with glee. Outwardly, she allowed herself a delicate Canterlot smile, which she’d practised in a mirror to get the twitch just right.

“One is glad you think so,” she said. “One endeavours to give satisfaction.”

“You’re so graceful, too! Between your artistry and your manners, you’ll fit right in at Canterlot one day. I’m sure of it.”

Rarity switched off the sewing machine and swung round on her chair, trying not to swell too much. “Thank you! Most generous of you to say so.”

Approaching at an easygoing pace, Cheerilee beamed at her. Oh, her mane was all frumpy, and she couldn’t pick out a decent dress to save her life – to this day, Rarity still had no idea if the costume last night had been a pineapple, a dandelion, or a bunch of bananas – but somehow, looking at the shine in those wide eyes and at the twinkle of braces in that smile made such issues… well, like a mere speck of lint compared to the bright white gown of the whole.

Rarity’s keen eye did notice, however, a flicker in those eyes towards her own three-diamond cutie mark. Cheerilee’s haunches were blank.

There was a certain hungry look in that flicker…

“So,” said Rarity as Cheerilee stopped and stood a little closer than she personally was comfortable with – Rarity shuffled back on her seat and had to tilt her head down to keep eye contact – “what can I do for you? A nicer dress this time?”

Instantly, she clapped a hoof over her own mouth; Cheerilee’s brow twitched towards a frown.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with… your style of, um…”

The brace-filled smile returned. “That’s quite all right. I know your standards are closer to Canterlot’s than mine are. Besides, I’m flattered you take the time out to care. You mean well.”

Squirming in her seat, Rarity turned her chair slightly to the left so she wasn’t facing Cheerilee directly. Somehow, this seemed less confrontational. In any case, the guidebook on Canterlot etiquette had been clear on the subject.

“Actually,” continued Cheerilee, “I was hoping to do something for you. After that lovely gift last night –”

“Oh, come now. You don’t have to do anything. It was a gift.”

“I thought you might like to see this.”

Only now did Rarity notice the saddlebags Cheerilee was wearing. She watched as her classmate rummaged around in them – Muzzle-first! she thought with a twinge of disgust – and came up unfurling a flyer. Rarity tried not to cringe at the flecks of spittle on it.

She squinted. “Ponyville Knitters League?”

Cheerilee dropped the flyer. “They teach all kinds of useful techniques, and you get to meet like-minded ponies all willing to help each other. I saw this and I thought it’d be right up your alley!”

“Hmmm. It’s certainly in my particular district, I’ll give you that.” Ha. Rustic knitting? How quaint. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to pick up… one or two tricks…”

“Great! I’ll see you there! Incidentally, I was wondering if you could patch up one or two items for me.”

“Gladly.” I’ll walk all over those knitters. You’ll see.

When Cheerilee rummaged through her saddlebags again, Rarity couldn’t help noticing the hopeful glance towards the haunches, and the slight droop of her friend’s ears.

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Unfortunately, it was off to a bad start. One: they were sitting in the living room of the League President’s cottage, which struck Rarity as a cheap choice. Even if the sofa and hanging lights were rather elegant…

Anyway, two: she was sitting in what could laughably be called a circle, but which consisted of four other foals. Cheerilee sat next to her and said hello to everyone.

On the sofa opposite, Big Mac the farmer shuffled uncomfortably. He was the only colt there, and stared at the carpet hoping not to catch anyone’s eye. Next to him sat a cross-eyed pegasus whose name Rarity had never learned, but who she privately called “the Ditz”. Lastly, an earth filly had a sofa to herself; she winked at Rarity from behind a cup of steaming coffee. The slurping was abominable.

It was a relief when Matilda the League President came shuffling back in. Rarity had spent what felt like hours working out how to talk to any one of these ponies. Not like Cheerilee, who’d effortlessly elicited a few comments from the fillies and even the occasional “eeyup” or “eenope” from Big Mac.

“Help yourself to cookies, my little ponies,” said Matilda, lowering her head and taking the tray off with both hooves. “We’ve got a big announcement today.”

Those curls are lovely, Rarity thought. And such an elegant lacy collar too! Obviously, someone’s been to Canterlot.

She leaned forwards eagerly and ignored the munching of cookies around her.

“Firstly, I’m happy to announce,” said the old jenny – the coffee-drinking filly shuffled aside to make room for her – “that we have a new member: Miss Rarity. I hope you all make her feel welcome.”

Feeling something was expected of her, Rarity waved demurely while part of her bloomed under the “Miss”. Even her teacher didn’t call her “Miss”.

“The Ditz” waved back and dropped her cookie in the process. Big Mac glanced up, flashed a smile, blushed, and looked away again. The coffee-drinking earth filly put her mug down and gave a mock salute.

“Secondly,” said Matilda, “I’d like to try something a little different this week. This used to be all the rage back in Canterlot when I was your age, and I remember at the Royal Ravel we had a wonderful time coming up with all sorts of creative ideas.”

Rarity’s ears snapped to attention. Canterlot? Royal? Creative?

“Ooh!” she said before she could stop herself. “You were a member of the Royal Ravel! Why, I’ve read all about that! That’s only the most prestigious… of…”

Stares.

Coughing, Rarity leaned back and patted herself on the neck. “Uh, apologies. You were saying?”

Matilda blinked away the surprise, and Rarity marvelled at the warmth in the old jenny’s smile. “Oh, how wonderful. You’re clearly very enthusiastic. Yes, though I never became president of that club. Anyway, I was thinking we could try our hooves at a little contest this week. Something to give you all a sense of direction and artistic freedom at the same time. It’s also a fine way to break the ice…”

Rarity let her prattle on while her own mind flowered with visions. A gown, so radiant and complex in its lacework and curls that Matilda would beam at it, perhaps send it to Canterlot to show her friends, who’d talk about it all over the city, who’d want to know the name of this new talent, this mysterious master of the arts –

Someone nudged her elbow.

“Psst,” whispered Cheerilee in her ear. “Rarity? You’re, uh, drooling?”

“Hm? What?” Rarity wiped her mouth and looked at the result. “Ew. S-Sorry.”

Focusing on the others again, Rarity licked her lips. She doubted “the Ditz” could stitch anything without tangling her own hooves, and Big Mac – he glanced up again, and looked down when Cheerilee giggled at him – would hide in the background if he could.

As for Cheerilee…

Her heart pained to admit it, but still… not much competition there. Which just left the earth filly.

“OK, my little ponies,” said Matilda. “I’ll be judging on beauty, technique, and creativity. Remember above all: enjoy it. You should always enjoy the time you have, and never give up.”

Rarity swore she heard a melancholic lilt in the words, but her mind tossed it out. Focus, Rarity! it snapped. Bigger picture!

“Well, that was most interesting,” she said later, after letting the others go out first. She turned to Cheerilee. “Who was the earth filly?”

“Oh, that’s Suri Polomare. She told me she wants to move to one of the big cities someday. Everyone wants to move to the big cities.” Now Cheerilee started skipping along. “How about Big Mac, though? He’s such a cutie-pie, isn’t he?”

“Hm. Amazing how you got him to say anything. I heard he hates talking, especially to girls.”

“He just doesn’t want to upset anyone. I know how he feels. Take this contest, for instance. I know Matilda means well, but it’ll be so disappointing for the foals who lose. I don’t really see it as a contest. I’m going to look past all that and see it as a way to create lovely art to share. That way, I can cheer up everyone, even the losers – I mean, the ponies who don’t win.”

Rarity, who was still working out whether or not a wardrobe of dresses could be knitted in a week, ground gears in her head trying to think about this outlook. “That’s… an interesting way of looking at it.”

“You’re very kind.”

“And you get a cutie mark out of it, I suppose.”

Cheerilee stopped skipping; her glare vanished as soon as it arrived. “What do you mean?” she said innocently.

And with equal innocence, Rarity said, “Uh, n-nothing, nothing. Just speculating, of course. So, uh, what are your plans for the contest?”

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