Upside-Down Cake

by Impossible Numbers

Upside-Down Cake, Part III - Derpy and Rarity

Derpy couldn’t believe her luck. For a while, she’d worried that her singing hadn’t been quite up to snuff. Now it turned out that Rarity simply wanted her for a special job! Rarity, the most generous pony in Ponyville! This was going to jump from good to better!

They got into the cosy hall of Carousel Boutique. Both Rarity and Sweetie Belle wiped their hooves on the welcome mat and delicately removed their winter things. Being a pegasus, Derpy didn’t mind the weather-induced cold so much, but she landed and wiped her feet too in case it caused comment.

“Ahem,” said Rarity.

Derpy followed her gaze to her own snowflake-flecked jumper.

“Oh,” she said. “Sorry.”

And she shook herself dry as best she could.

“Derpy! Please!” Rarity spat and spluttered.

“I think I lost my paper hat in the wind,” said Derpy, tramping through to the kitchen. “That’s OK. I’m sure it’ll turn up later. Can I have a hot drink?”

Already, Sweetie Belle sat up to the table. She was hunched over, either because the chill seeped into the kitchen as well, or because she was sulking.

To save Rarity the bother, Derpy opened up a few cupboards.

“A-bup-bup-bup!” Nevertheless, Rarity blocked her way and pointed her to the table.

“Oh, sorry,” said Derpy. “This is another of them social thingies. I guess it’s rude to serve drinks at someone else’s home.”

“Actually, I was hoping you wouldn’t break – er, I mean, er, yes. Yes, you’re absolutely right.”

Sweetie Belle’s teeth chattered; she shivered and shook herself down. “Do you have any hot chocolate?”

Three glasses landed on the table. “All I’ve got in at the moment is carrot juice. Dear Golden Harvest was having a sale, and you know how hard it is for farmers at this time of year. How could I refuse?”

“Sounds good to me,” said Derpy. Really, she’d been hoping for hot chocolate too.

“Wait.” Sweetie Belle’s brow creased. “I thought you were rolling in it. Canterlot Carousel’s doing splendidly, you said. And Rarity For You.”

Derpy groaned and shook her head; her eyes were wandering in opposite directions, so one was staring at Rarity by the fridge, and the other one was inspecting the sink. Angrily, she shook her head harder, and the gaze resolved into one picture again.

Orange liquid poured into each glass, one after the other. Rarity groaned.

“Sweetie Belle, I was referring to their gross earnings. You know there are so many complications before it gets back to me.”

“Ooh, I know this one!” said Derpy, ever helpful. “There’s the charity funding this time of year… There’s the presents you buy for your friends… There’s the start-up funds for small businesses…”

“Oh,” said Sweetie Belle. Her sullen posture softened slightly.

Rarity blushed. “Well, this and that. This and that. One does what one can. Does anyone want any ice in their drinks?”

They stared at her.

Hastily, she returned the tray to the freezer. “Never mind. Ask a silly question.”

Taking this as her invitation, Derpy grabbed the glass with both hooves and gulped her way through the thick, slightly bitty juice. Against the harsh cold outside, this was merely a little tingle of coolness. Anyway, no one did carrot juice like Golden Harvest. Sweeter than sugar, and healthier too.

“So,” said Sweetie Belle, “what is this super-duper important thing you wanted me for?”

“What a forthright manner,” said Rarity, her voice tinged with amusement. “Can one not savour the company of one’s own dearly beloved little sister?”

“I like singing carols,” said Sweetie Belle. Moody gulping broke the silence that hung about the table. “Sure, Lyra’s a bit intense about it, but she knows every carol that’s ever existed. She came down specially from Canterlot to tutor us.”

“Is that so?” said Rarity thoughtfully. “Well, that explains her, at least, but the other four?”

Her glass now drained, Derpy almost hit the tabletop with it. “What other four?”

“Derpy, please! You’ll stain the woodwork!” Taking a genteel sip of her own drink, Rarity studied the ceiling for clues. “Oh, the usual Canterlot crowd: Minuette, Twinkleshine, and Lemon Hearts. Plus one other I couldn’t quite place…”

Ah. I know this one. This is a test. “You mean Amethyst Star?”

Sweetie Belle gave her an odd look. “Amethyst’s not from Canterlot. She’s from Ponyville. At least, that’s what Dinky told me.”

“Well, they usually hang out,” said Derpy. “Don’t they?” she added to Rarity.

“Heaven knows why.” Rarity took another sip. “Amethyst is hardly the easiest of ponies to get along with.”

“What? But-But she takes part in all kinds of things: group songs, parties, birthdays, the lot.”

“Yes, but my sources in Canterlot and in Ponyville tell me that kind of behaviour is not particularly natural for her. From what I heard, she’s more comfortable around schedules and lists than around ponies.”

“Sounds like Twilight,” said Sweetie Belle, “and she gets along with ponies fine.”

“Twilight’s different.” Another genteel sip. “At least now she is.”

“That’s not how Dinky tells it,” said Derpy. “I think you’re being a bit unfair on Amethyst.”

She squirmed; she wasn’t used to actual debate, except along the lines of “Who dropped that piano? Did you do it? Hope you can pay for it out of your salary, then.”

“Sisterly loyalty, I’ll wager,” said Rarity. Catching Sweetie Belle’s eye, she hastily added, “Which is a fine thing, a fine thing indeed. Derpy, I’ve got nothing against the girl whatsoever. She’s fine. She merely wouldn’t be my best pick for social company. Anyway, this mystery mare I was talking about was… What was her name now? Moondance, I think.”

Derpy shrugged. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Rarity hummed thoughtfully. At least, Derpy thought she looked thoughtfully at the ceiling while she did it. Not that it bothered her much. Other ponies usually looked more thoughtful than herself, in any case.

Once more, her eyes tried to wander. Once more, she shook her head to refocus them.

After a while, Sweetie Belle shivered again. “Why is it so cold in here? Don’t you have any heating?”

“I… turned it down a bit.” Rarity tapped the edge of her own glass, but Derpy couldn’t read her expression at all. Nervous? Annoyed? Saddened? Confused?

“And can’t we turn a light on? The snow’s blocking up the windows.”

“Oh, you!” Rarity giggled, none too convincingly. “The sombre atmosphere is a delight in itself. Simply savour the experience!”

Sweetie Belle gave her a suspicious, narrow-eyed look. Then she scraped her chair back and stepped over to the sink. Under her unicorn magic, one of the faucets squeaked and the knob turned. No water came out.

“I’m on a special plan,” said Rarity at once.

Sweetie Belle sighed. “Not the economical thing again?”

“Well, amenities are expensive this time of year! I switch on the heating when the shop’s open, obviously, for the sake of the customers. The arrangement’s only for wintertime.”

“Oh,” said Sweetie Belle, stomping back to her seat. “So it’s OK if your own sister freezes in the dark, then?”

“One day, Sweetie Belle, you are going to have to pay your own bills, and then perhaps you’ll understand the need for careful budgeting!”

Sweetie Belle growled. “How can you be so generous and so stingy at the same time!? You don’t make any sense!”

“I don’t make sense. I have sense. If it isn’t sensible, it isn’t business-wise. That’s all there is to it. Now, will you please stop acting like a stroppy teenager and give your poor big sister the benefit of the doubt?”

Well, if there was one good thing coming out of this little tête-à-tête, at least Derpy was getting warmer with embarrassment. She didn’t move in case this attracted attention. Yet she wanted to fidget so much. Sheer heat strained to escape. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but be mesmerized by how cutting their glares were.

A switch flicked on in her brain. Derpy, after all, was all about helping.

“Er,” she said. “It’s nice that Rarity does so much charity work, isn’t it?”

Both sisters glared up and her, and then softened their faces. They fidgeted where they sat.

“It’s nice,” said Sweetie Belle, as though conceding to the table.

“This is Hearth’s Warming, is it not?” said Rarity to the ceiling.

Both of them levitated their drinks. They sipped their carrot juice. They placed the glasses down delicately.

Derpy stopped grinning when she noticed her eyes trying to turn their backs on each other again. Darn eye condition! Furious shaking set them straight again.

“Returning to my original point,” said Rarity, and her careful tone made Derpy wipe her brow with relief, “I was, in fact, wondering whether or not you’d like to accompany me to Canterlot.”

Derpy’s face jolted with joy. “Oh, I’d love to! Canterlot is so expensive this time of year. I only ever get in by giving up on presents.”

“Apologies, Derpy, but I was asking Sweetie Belle, and they only allow one guest to accompany any one ticket-holder.”

Derpy’s face fell lifeless again. “Oh.”

“Not that I don’t have plans for you, of course!”

Opposite, Sweetie Belle hummed. “What kind of event is it? Are we going to see the Hearth’s Warming Pageant again? Only Mom and Dad got my tickets for that already, so I’m OK.”

“Actually, I was going for several of the festivals Twilight recommended.”

“Canterlot festivals?” said Sweetie Belle, curling up under the uncertainty. “I dunno.”

“You enjoyed the Gala, didn’t you?”

“That’s because it’s the Gala. Everything good is at the Gala. It’s like if Pinkie Pie’s parties met Princess Celestia. But all those Canterlot ponies, staring at me…?” She shuddered and took refuge behind another gulp of juice. “No thanks,” she said into her glass.

“Oh,” said Rarity, ears drooping. “To be honest, I rather thought you’d leap at the opportunity.”

The glass came down. “Nope. Just at the pageant.”

“Well, of course. Those Canterlot ponies can be a demanding audience, I’ll admit.”

Derpy took a deep breath. Now was her chance. Clearly, Rarity had some powerful scheme for spreading generosity around Canterlot. She wouldn’t waste time at some big social if there wasn’t some “good by stealth” involved. Derpy grinned; she was pleased to have seen through this social thing so easily.

“If –” she got as far as saying.

“What else is there?” said Sweetie Belle cheerfully.

“Hm?” said Rarity, raising her own glass.

“At Canterlot? Other festivals?”

“Oh yes. Twilight mentioned one. Solara Victor, or some such thing.”

And Derpy sighed. She was starting to wonder what she was even doing here. Another gulp of her glass, and then she realized she’d already finished her drink. Instead, she patted the bottom to get the last few drops. Anything to look like she was busy with something else.

Unexpectedly, Sweetie Belle frowned. “The Solaria Invictus?”

“Oh, you know of it?” Rarity’s voice was hesitant; the frown had not gone unnoticed, even if it was currently unexplained.

Derpy lowered the glass to watch. Uh oh, she thought.

“Dinky told me,” said Sweetie Belle. “And Amethyst told Dinky. That’s the festival where one pony has to be the upper class pony and the other pony has to be the lower class pony.”

“Is it?” said Rarity, surprised. “I knew there was some role-playing involved, or some such.”

“And the upper class pony always gets the ticket,” said Sweetie Belle, rising along with her voice.

Sinking along with her own smile, Rarity ventured, “Is that right? Are you entirely sure your source on this is reliable?”

“So what you’re saying,” said Sweetie Belle, now reaching ear-piercing levels of voice-cracking, “is that I’m the lower class pony?”

“Perish the thought! Ow!” Rarity knocked the table and winced, rubbing her rear leg – Derpy grabbed her own glass before it fell over – and continued, “The festival’s only a bit of fun. I thought you might enjoy the occasion, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” said Derpy, as keen to calm the situation as Rarity. “Everyone knows Rarity is a fancy pony. She’s famous for it. Maybe one day, you’ll be fancy and famous too, Sweetie Belle.”

Sweetie Belle shot a glare at her, which slowly, reluctantly, but surely melted away. Derpy was trying her best smile, but she was horribly aware of her own eyes drifting apart and shook her head until they settled back again.

It was always embarrassing. She’d tried everything: surgery, hypnotism, even sticky tape when she’d been desperate enough. Nothing stopped the eyes from wandering off wherever they liked. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear they’d had a spat at some point and were refusing to see eye-to-eye.

On the other hoof, they at least tended to relax ponies around her. Perhaps the others just found it hard to be angry around someone who could look ridiculous at a moment’s notice.

“No, I’m not interested,” said Sweetie Belle to the table. Looking up, she added, “I could ask around, though? If you want?”

“That would be most helpful. Thank you,” said Rarity to her drink. She looked up too. “And of course I don’t see you as lower class in the slightest. Haven’t I always said what a fine fashionista you’d make, if only you applied yourself?”

“Something like that. I think.”

“Well, I suppose I’ve kept you from your singing for long enough. Although you might put yourself out a bit more: you do have a lovely voice.”

“Uh… One step at a time.”

“As you wish. Enjoy yourself.”

Rarity returned to inspecting her drink until Sweetie Belle slipped down and the door clicked shut.

“What about me?” said Derpy, keen to move on.

“Hm. Beg pardon? That was rude of me.”

“You wanted me for some special job, didn’t you?”

“I did? Oh, yes. Of course I did. Um…”

“Only you said –”

“Yes, yes, I know!” Rarity levitated the glasses and guided them into the sink, all without getting up. She tapped the table and hummed again.

“Was it for volunteer work? Charity? Helping out at the Filly Guides?”

For some strange reason – maybe dramatic flair – Rarity did not answer for the longest while. Skewing her lips, she frowned up at the ceiling. Then she looked down at Derpy and beamed.

“You know, I believe I might have one or two ideas in mind. I think. What time can you start tomorrow?”

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