A Lady Does Everything With Feeling

by Cynewulf

Rating: everyone
Tags: Rarity, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rainbow Dash, Romance
Length: 4443

Rarity comes to grips with burnout.

Rarity is the consummate Lady: she never goes back on her word, and she never complains to a customer. But this newest order has just been different and for the first time in a long, long time Rarity finds herself truly with empty hooves, with no creative energies to summon.

Some mild Raridash. Not really shipping, but sort of? Anyhow, I hope you enjoy! It was nice to write something after being sort of stuck myself.

Published 2012-08-25 05:54:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-08-25 05:54:01 UTC

A Lady Does Everything With Feeling

A Lady Does Everything With Feeling

An interesting fact about Ponyville’s fastest Pegasus: she was actually not that bad of a cook. True, she didn’t exercise her skill often, preferring take out and it’s remarkable ease, but this was more due to her own laziness than any deficiency of talent in the culinary arts.

Rarity still remembered how she’d delighted in that, so long ago. It had taken her so by surprise! Rainbow Dash, of all ponies, cooking! Why, it had been simply unimaginable that her darling— and daring!— friend would be so good at something mundane and… domestic. Applejack, she could understand, as the rustic Apple family sold pastries and other treats alongside their simple apples. She’d always assumed that Rainbow Dash was the only pony less proficient at making a fine meal than Twilight (bless her, but the girl lived on sandwiches and cheap takeout and honestly, Spike was her only hope) and yet… here she was, in the Boutique apartment’s kitchen, working with what would soon be dough.

“You gonna help? I thought you had some last minute work to do.” Dash suddenly asked, breaking the otherwise comfortable silence. It was an utterance not unkind, and Rarity simply chuckled.

“You must forgive me, darling, I’ve just been… distracted,” Rarity searched for a word and decided on one. She’d always believed that a lady chose her words with care, and this one suited her present state of mind well.

It had not been a good day. The order she’d worked on all week had been just about finished when the letter had come. Usually, she was quite happy to see the bubbly and often ditzy Pegasus who brought the mail, but when Rarity had seen that name on the envelope the courier’s smile had been absolutely grating. There’d been a change— of course there’d been a change. That was what always happened, and she’d just about convinced herself that there wouldn’t be because she was so distracted and so very tired.

The client wanted more. Thankfully, the client also had given her an extension, time within which she could work out how to replicate what changes he’d asked for and produce three separate outfits for additions to the noblepony’s entourage. Unfortunately, the extension was only an extra day and she’d wasted a good quarter of this day fumbling. She’d pull through, she always did.

“Distracted, eh?” Dash didn’t pause, but Rarity knew that there were cogs turning. “’Whatcha distracted by?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” Not a lie, not entirely. A Lady did not resort to lies, not directly. They were vulgar. Withholding information, that she could do. She could also tell as much as the truth as she dared and pleasantly forget to mention the rest, as she did now.

“Mm,” Dash responded eloquently. Before Rarity’s eyes, the dough was rolled into a ball and Dash began to smooth it out flat. Once she’d gotten the dough perfect and laid it out to rest she’d work on the rest and her Hay Ravioli would be done. The fashionista, after working on this project for a noblepony from Veneightia, had been craving some of that place’s fare. Rarity simply watched, fascinated as much by the fact that Dash was cooking as she was by the movement. The Pegasus, noticing finally that Rarity was being rather still, looked up with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m sorry my dear, but it’s fascinating to me still, you know. You. Being domestic,” she giggled much to Rainbow’s consternation.

“Eh, go work on your frilly whatevers. Don’t get used to it, you know this isn’t an all the time sort of thing!” Rarity obediently headed back to the important work she’d been neglecting, but was still listening for the grumbling she knew would be behind her.

“I can cook if I want to… not like I’m not awesome just ‘cuz…” Rarity, pleased with her attempt to fluster her marefriend, returned to the studio.

Only to stand at the entrance, her good humor draining. What was she to do? Where was she? How—
No, she was Rarity, and she would not be out of sorts. That was a thing that a lady was never: out of sorts. A Lady kept her composure and things more often than not fell into place.

Of course, things were not really falling into place, but that didn’t excuse anything. She went back to work as best she could.

The real problem would be in meshing the new outfits with the old set. At first, she’d written of the request by figuring that she could duplicate the client’s earlier commissioned entourage attire and change just a bit, but he’d expressly asked that the two newest be different. The challenge before her, then, was to make these two extra dresses unique enough to please him, while still avoiding designs that might prove time consuming.

How many designs had she scrapped? She’d wanted, a day ago, to impress and to please, but now she was simply drained.

“I never used to feel this way,” she lamented to the mannequin beside her, feeling inordinately silly for doing so. Talking to oneself or to mannequins, that’s what needed to be added to her list of Things A Lady Never Does.

But she did feel this way— she simply wasn’t in the zone. She wasn’t ready to create. Minutes passed without movement or meaningful progress, and still she had nothing. Frustrated, she grabbed a stash of scrolls from a high compartment on the far shelf and held them up before her, shifting in between them.

“No… no… perhaps if I… no. Decidedly not! Celestia’s light and Luna’s heavens, but that was a bad season.” There she went, talking to herself, but in such a trying period Rarity supposed that she could dispense with some of the less important pillars of Ladyhood such as talking to oneself. At least she didn’t discuss the prospects of recycling something from earlier designs with the mannequin.

Doing this would be… not quite the worst of all possible things. He’d mentioned in passing that the newest additions to his entourage were minor… And now as she glanced through these older designs she began to feel sorely tempted. It was the temptation of the amateur, not the charlatan, but… she simply could not shake it. It wouldn’t be hard at all to just change a thing here, a thing there… she had measurements, she had… but it would be so dishonest!

No, but it would be perhaps not something an elite designer would partake in on a commission of this much importance.

There was always another option… but that would be beyond simply undesirable. It would be downright dishonorable. Humiliating. Awful. Celestia guard her and perhaps maybe rescue her, but she would not be asking for help from… well, that was of no importance.

Rarity, her mane frazzled and her red glasses askew, sighed. She looked to her supplies and selected the colors she knew she’d need no matter what (thank Celestia that this client had been so specific on such details and more! It had made the initial designs so much easier.) and then she left the studio again. Dinner was soon. Perhaps food would help her sense of being so… lost. A Lady never hastened unduly, after all. The couch beckoned, beside the door that led to the kitchen, and Rarity meant to not leave it waiting. A Lady was prompt to answer summons, especially when said cultured mare had loss a significant amount of sleep in the last week and was just now realizing exactly how exhausted she truly was.

“Dash, darling, I don’t suppose you could use any help?” She’d say no, of course, and Rarity knew it, but it was polite to ask. Besides that, sometimes despite herself, she was a generous soul and—

“Actually, I could use some company.”

Surprised, Rarity changed her course slightly and entered the little kitchen.

“Why of course, darling.” Her tone was light, but falsely so. Oh Rarity, but it is so obvious that you were not to be the Element of Honesty. To think, that her Dashie had once thought that something had been going on between them! No, besides the fact that Applejack’s interest was firmly invested in stallions, she was simply not grounded in honesty to the same extent. It would have been an unequal yoke. Equivocation came too easily for her in situations where showing the truth might injure.

Like now. She was exhausted. She didn’t wish to talk or be company. She wished to go to her wonderful, lush, beautiful couch with its majestic soft cushions and its marvelously welcoming frame…

“Wasn’t gonna say anything, Rares, but you look a little… off?” Dash said, looking over to her.

“I’m tired, Darling.” There, honesty. The tiny mental nagging of Applejack was satisfied. “This order… I’m simply tired of it. Until I received that awful little correspondence with changes it was going fabulously.”

Dash continued working on the sauce, frowning. Rarity felt the familiar warm feelings well up in her again, despite her weariness. This was how it began, where Rainbow simply wouldn’t understand something she’d been struggling with, or that someone else had, but she would try. Oh Celestia, but she would try. She was always the most loyal of ponies and Rarity loved her for it. Their elements were so close, she often thought. Generosity and Loyalty, giving of oneself for another pony, in different contexts.

“You always make it, Rares. I know you’ll pull through,” she began. “You always manage to pull out something great even when you have just a few hours left before the order’s due. When you’re done, we can relax… you know what?” she stopped and grinned and Rarity couldn’t help but love her for the adorable way in which she steeled herself for what both of them knew was coming. “I’ll go with you to the spa you’re always going on about, when it’s all said and done.”

Oh, but Rarity could not help but love this, the dance they danced. Rainbow had no knowledge or skills to offer in help, and so she tried to make rewards. It was all the poor mare could think of to make things better. Rainbow Dash, her mare of action.

She knew the next step— despite her adorable pesgasus’s words’ suggestion to the contrary, Rarity had coaxed her into the spa and into the ministrations of Aloe and her twin quite a few times. This was a peculiar play in the game of love between them, how Rainbow half-heartedly resisted all of Rarity’s moves of a certain flavor.

“Why, darling, of course. I will hold you to that, I’ll have you know!”

The athlete smirked and continued her work. She was almost done now, Rarity noticed. Perhaps, on a different, occasion, she would’ve said more, but her weariness had not really left for all of her lifted spirits.

After a beat of silence, Rarity drifted back out of the kitchen. Before she knew it, she found herself in that couch with her eyes closed.

What was it about this order? Was it even this order, necessarily, that had her so weary and worn? The more Rarity thought on it, the more she began to suspect that her problem wasn’t an artistic one at its heart.

Dinner was good— when it was that rare night that saw Dash cooking, dinner was almost always good. Rarity regretted that her state of mind had made it hard to enjoy the good company and the meal she knew her marefriend had worked hard on.

It was also over far too soon. Rarity tried to keep them both lingering and talking, but she knew deep down that she had to finish her work. Dash, loyal to the last, considered a commission a promise, and thus wouldn’t let the designer escape for long. It was a consolation, Rarity reasoned, that Dash had lingered in the room, reading.

A Lady can appreciate intentions. She can also enjoy quiet company, and Rarity did feel a little better with Rainbow in the room with her. But for all that, progress still did not come with anything resembling ease. The questions and doubts of earlier had retreated— not after that humiliating outburst last time would she ask for help on a dress from Fluttershy. She loved Fluttershy, and she was a dear, but sleeping diamond dogs should lie. A Lady knew when not to ask questions.

And then suddenly, she laid her head against her little desk and close her eyes and stopped moving. She was completely still. Behind her, Rarity could almost feel how Rainbow’s eyes moved up from Daring Do and onto her.

She raised her head and took hold of the pencil beside her with her magic and steadied the paper. Quickly, with concentration, she began to sketch. Her eyes never wavered, the pencil stopped only briefly here and there. All she knew for that time was movement and the scratchy sound of work. If she’d been paying attention to Rainbow, she’d perhaps have noticed how the Pegasus slowly turned her attention back to the novel in her hooves.

When the flurry of activity was done with, she stared down at it. She knew she had to do it. She had to ask someone, had to hear someone’s opinion… no, a Lady must be honest at least with herself. She really needed to argue against it and have someone else try to defend her work, having no personal investment in it. In short, she needed validation.

Of course, to be honest once again with herself, she knew this was cheating. Rainbow loved her and had learned to tread with delicacy around the subject of fashion. “Rainbow, darling, I need your positively honest opinion.” She turned to the now tense Rainbow.

“Er, Rares, you know…” Oh, but a Lady did not exactly have to have mercy. Rarity leaped into the discussion again before the flyer could beg off.

“Oh, Darling it’s not like I need some expert opinion!” She was already on the couch. Rainbow knew she was trapped. A Lady ensures that there is always a minimal amount of fuss and with this in mind Rarity continued on like a freight train which stops for absolutely nothing on the tracks.

“Now, Rainbow Dash,” she drew out Rainbow’s name in what she hoped was a charming sort of drawl. “I must ask that you look. Here, here. Yes, these too. No, not the scribbles in the corner. Yes. Oh, I see it in your eyes! Are they not dreadful? Oh, but I was worried and I see now that I was right! Oh, Celestia, I must simply begin ag—“

“Hold on, let me get in a word edgewise!” Rainbow said a little gruffly. Her mouth still open, mid-melodrama, Rarity listened. Rainbow, not knowing that her occasionally fussy partner was truly waiting, hurried on with her opinion. “I like it! I like them. Like, really. This one, see how the train goes? It’s kinda cool. I dunno, I think they’re cool.”

Oh, but Rarity loved Rainbow’s eloquence above all of her other worthy and admirable qualities, and with less irony than most ponies assumed accompanied that statement. Sometimes, one needed an opinion that wasn’t filled with multisyllabic silliness.

“Cool.” She repeated the word, tasted it, thought about it, looking down at the design ideas. She was calculating, planning. Others may not think so, but she knew that Dash had a sort of code. Dash herself probably didn’t realize it, or would think the idea silly. Usually, things were “okay” or “alright”. “Cool” was a word that Rainbow Dash reserved for things she truly thought were cool. To be Cool in the eyes of Rainbow Dash was to be something of a particular cut, at least in the eyes of Rarity. There were things to be said for designs that could please the uninitiated on first brief sight! She was still unhappy with them. No, honesty: she felt indifferent as to their quality. In other circumstances, this would’ve been more significant to her.

Rainbow Dash had no idea of any of this. Her ears were down and she wilted a little. “Yeah! It’s cool… I mean, that’s not…er… Cool is a good thing for things to be!”

Oh. Rarity looked up, her reverie broken. Yes, poor dear. I really have been rather insistent in my attempts to civilize my lovely Pegasus. Yes, Rainbow, cool is a good thing for things to be. “Oh, of course, dear. I was just thinking. You really think so?”

“Of course!” Rainbow said, confidant now. Rarity noticed how quickly she recovered with a small smile. It was an admirable trait and one that Rarity had always appreciated.

She bounded from the couch and headed back over to her rolls of cloth… only to stop and turn back around, thinking for a moment. Rainbow watched her, waiting. The decision apparently made, she turned back to her original goal and began selecting rolls, pulling them with the same innate magic which she used to keep ahold of her rough sketches. Her colors assembled, she looked back to her reference like a painter with palette in hoof. This was it. It was time to be in the zone, as it were. Time to create something.

Except, no, she wasn’t truly… in the zone. Not really. Her skill had picked her up from the ground where she’d been languishing, but she felt none of the rushed joy. Instead was a focus. It wasn’t a cold thing, no, Rarity had tasted enough of coldness in Canterlot to value life and love in her work. The mojo was back…

“But something’s different.” She was still tired, but it came easier now. As she continued, and as an hour passed, it became obvious that these designs were perfectly acceptable and not that bad at all despite her rushed and weary state. It would be more of a question of hoofwork and magic then any real headwork. No, a Lady was never complacent, but Rarity knew herself well enough to know that the hardest bits had passed.

So she began to speak. “Rainbow?”

“Hm? Yeah, here, Rares.” The mare in question lounged on the couch— sometimes a Lady needed a power nap?No, no, that can wait. Not that it wouldn't be absolutely sublime right now... — and though Rarity couldn’t spare the moment for eye contact, she could see the image in her mind’s eye: The blue Pegasus would be sitting up, with her wings (that had just begun to unfold in a display of mild surprise) folding back against her. The book would have its poor pages roughly dog-eared. (Honestly, Rarity did not see why her marefriend had to be such a ruffian about her books!)

“Just wanted to thank you, darling. For food and for coming and being here. It’s been all very considerate of you… I’ve not been good company the last day or so, I know. I do apologize.”

“It’s fine.” That nonchalant declaration. When had she stopped rolling her eyes at those? It was Rainbow’s way— shrug things off. It was all so very different from her own normal modes of expression that once again she was struck with the oddness of this relationship that she cherished.

But of course, she had to insist. A Lady must be true to form. “Oh, but I’m not sure it’s really all fine. I’ve neglected you, darling! I’ve so missed your flying these last two days, and our talks.”

Dash was, to her surprise, quiet. A moment passed and to be perfectly honest the fashionista was not at all sure how to handle this departure from form and glanced over towards the couch.

Rainbow seemed thoughtful, watching. Seeing she was observed, she spoke. “Rares… I’ve been thinking. You’ve seemed… unhappy.”

She had paused when her name had been mentioned. At this, she ceased in shock. A Lady prided herself on her intuition, and at this very moment it was telling her that this was not a statement made lightly. Rainbow looked uncomfortable.

But she was cautious, played dumb. Rainbow needed to be led into doing things, but in such a way that she felt like she was still taking the initiative, still the one driving the action. “It has been a rather stressful order! Not my favorite to work on by any means.” Oh Rainbow, still not completely at ease, are you...? Well, a Lady does her best to soothe other's fear.

“No,” Rainbow answered, fidgeting. “I mean… you’ve just seemed so sad these last two weeks. I mean, not mopey. Like, you haven’t been whining or sighing or any of that stuff. You just… walk.” She struggled, tried to find the right word. “I guess, like, you go about life as normal but you don’t seem to enjoy the things you usually do. Like… it’s just a job.”

Rarity sat and thought.

Of course her first reaction was hard to suppress: to counter that this was not true at all! She’d simply been tired with this order and the last big one and Sweetie Bell’s crusading… but she once again had to be honest to herself. It wasn’t as far-fetched as she would like to believe. She gave the notion some real, deep thinking.

It was perhaps true. She’d taken so little joy out of the creative process. She’d made beautiful things and not realized with an artist’s eye their wonder. She’d appreciated them, and with a businesspony’s acumen had calculated about them, but that was all.

“When I said that you looked off… I really meant it. I’m kinda worried. You usually love this sort of stuff. You gripe about orders and how people change their minds, and sometimes it really gets to you… but we both know that you love it. You thrive off of the challenge. I always get that, because I’m a racer. The pressure, the doing something with skills, with your hooves and horn or wings that only you can do like you can…” she grinned despite the tone of the moment. “I always thought of you like one of those figure flyers, the ones that are too slow for me, the ones that fly all pretty.”

Rarity said nothing, and simply waited. She was of course, flattered by the comparison, but Dash needed to finish. She carefully put down her things and came over to the couch to sit on it. This warranted a minor break. She had hours more than she’d need, she figured.

“But… I’ve never been really out of love with flying. I’m a simple mare, you know that. But I remember hearing people talk about one of the other up-and-coming flyers back in Cloudsdale when I was younger, before I moved. They kept talking about how she lost the love of flying the way she did. She kept winning, she kept competing for awhile, but it was so… dead. I…” here she faltered a bit, embarrassed. “Well, I used to be… I wasn’t a fan, really, I just sorta watched those competitions. I went just for the pretty mares, I promise.”

“Dash, you can admit to liking more feminine pursuits in private,” Rarity admonished with a small smile.

“Whatevs. So one day I saw her and her eyes were so empty. It was a flawless performance. It was so beautiful! But it was so… dead. It made me want to cry, that someone could be so detached from something beautiful, whether they created it or not. Watching you work on this order and the last, I’ve just been worried…”

“That I was like that?”

Rainbow nodded. Rarity sighed and scooted closer, laying back against her lover’s side. Dash kissed her mane.

“I don’t know about that… but I think perhaps I am experiencing some burnout. I’m an artist at heart, so to forget that I make beautiful things first and foremost… I was beginning to put it together that something was wrong. I suppose writers get writer’s block. What does a fashionista get?”

“Wardrobe malfunction?” Rainbow snickered.

“Ha. Hilarious. Veritably, you are the toast of the town, darling,” she retorted drily. “But… I’m not sure what to do about that besides not take any orders for a while. After this one, I can afford to do that for some time… but will that be what I need? Or will I just get rusty? The idea of being idle just… it perturbs me.”

“Who said anything ‘bout being idle?” Rainbow’s mischievous grin communicated quite a bit. Rarity rolled her eyes and groaned.

“No need to be crass, darling. Honestly, leave the suggestion to those who understand subtlety. We must teach you these things. And while I will leave you in suspense as to that matter for now, you know what I mean.”

“And I’m only partially kidding,” Rainbow rejoined, with a much more honest smile. “I was just thinking that you could do with some travel. There’s one of the biggest figure flying competitions in Cloudsdale in a week, and the city itself… you didn’t get to see as much of it as you could’ve. It’s too big for a day’s tour. Cloudsdale… I’m not an artist, Rares, but Cloudsdale, when the light hits it just right… it makes me want to be. But don’t repeat that.”

“It sounds alright to me, Dashie.” She smiled up demurely at the mare and then sat up. . Really, she had to get working or Dash would take advantage of the whole situation as she always did. A Lady must not be idle, and she never abandoned work when it needed doing, not for long!

“Yes, I think I’d like that. It’s been so long since I just enjoyed something on a creative level. So long since I just… read or looked or listened and just appreciated and loved. I think that’s as good a way to do it as any. I’ll talk to Twilight about that spell tomorrow.”

A Lady knew when to take a break, and a Lady always was grateful, especially to particular rainbow-maned pegasi. Work would go fast. Already, she could feel the tiny seed of anticipation growing in her. Yes, maybe it was time to recharge, to think, to enjoy. Who better to do it with then Rainbow Dash?

Oh Rainbow… of course I won’t say, but that is a lovely sentiment. We’ll make a true romantic of you yet. And for the first time in a long time, Rarity felt a little lighter.