You tug at the collar of your uncomfortably tight, elegantly tailored suit as you step inside the ballroom, nearly blinded by the glimmering splendor of well-dressed ponies and shining marble floors. A massive fountain in the center of the hall flowed arcs of sparkling water into a base delicately carved with illustrations of merponies. The windows of the palace were obscenely high, most definitely violating numerous building codes. Soft, dulcet notes of bass, piano and violin from a small band of mare musicians served to further shape the high-class atmosphere.
An enchanted silk banner, floating above the musicians and glowing bright blue, read "Welcome All To The Annual Fall Fashion Gala!" in perfect, swirling script.
A number of the party guests take notice of you, eyes widening before turning back to their fellow ponies and whispering in hushed, secretive tones. You roll your eyes, wandering further into the ballroom. Being the only human in Equestria and all, you've already gotten used to it. You nearly collide with a waiter filly carrying glasses of Canterlot fine wine on her back as you glance about the crowded hall, clumsily sidestepping her and swiping two glasses off the tray in one relatively smooth move. Although Equestrian wine was weaker than a carton of grape juice and would take several barrels of the stuff to get you buzzed, it was nice to have something occupying your hands- you never could figure out what to do with them at fancy parties like this...
Do you put your hands in your pockets? Behind your back? Perhaps folded across your chest-
"Anonymous!"
A melodic voice with a cheerful tone calls your name, drawing your attention from the subject of hand positions. It was Rarity, a prim and proper fashionista from Ponyville, just the filly you were looking for. Her violet mane was braided into charming swirls around the back of her head, ending in a bun on top. A stunning dress of glowing gemstones and shimmering, pearl-colored cloth complimented her snow-white fur beautifully, cascading to the floor in a trail of ethereal fabric.
"There you are, darling, I've been waiting for you!" She hums, stopping in her tracks once you turned to face her, giving you the once-over with her sapphire eyes and nodding with approval. "I say, you look positively stunning in that wonderful suit! Dress like that more often, won't you?"
"Sure. I'll make an exception, just for you," You grumble. "And I can say the same, Rarity- you look gorgeous tonight." Rarity playfully strikes a pose, one hoof elegantly half-raised, eyes closed and chin pointed up.
You chuckle and hand her the other glass of wine, which she accepts gracefully. As you tug at the unrelentingly hot collar once more, the Ponyville seamstress takes a delicate sip of the rich, violet-red vintage.
"Oh, this is rather strong. Perhaps I shouldn't be drinking this," She coughs politely, covering her mouth with a slippered hoof. "Although I must say it does taste marvelous."
"Come on, live a little, Rarity," You tease, nudging her with an elbow. "Anyways, I'm sorry for being late. The carriage I booked got stuck in mud and I had to wait for another one to come along."
"It's quite alright, darling," Rarity smiles, finishing the wine off and floating the empty glass onto a waiter pony's tray. "And regardless, I wasn't left waiting long. A little late myself, running errands for the Canterlot Carousel."
You feign contempt, holding a hand to your heart and scoffing.
"You? Rarity, running late?" You huff in a haughty Canterlot accent. "How remarkably unladylike. How ever will you find yourself a suitable courter, presenting yourself in such an unrefined manner?"
Rarity grins and plays along, standing on her hind legs and swooning dramatically.
"Oh, you're completely right, darling," She sighs, rather convincingly. "What is a filly like me to do? My heart shall forever stay incomplete, if I am to never have a charming knight sweep me off my hooves!"
You part your hair down the middle and comb out the sides, the manestyle of many a cocky Canterlot noble. "Rarity, my dear, I am devastated you bring you this news," You say in a completely different accent, lower in tone, as you hold your index finger and thumb into a crude monocle shape on your left eye. "But I am afraid no worthy stallion will ever date you. You see, everypony knows you were late to that one Fall Fashion Gala Ball all those moons ago."
"What terrible, life-altering news!" Rarity cries. "I am destined to forever live as a bitter old spinster, the thrill of romance and the heartbeat of a stallion as he holds me close in his hooves never to be experienced! Destined!"
The two of you stand still in your silly throes of sadness for a moment before breaking out into giggles. Rarity comes back down from her hind legs, resting her forelegs on your chest as you both attempt to subside the snickers.
As the gala continues, you and Rarity mingle with the other party guests, nobles and fashionistas alike. For the first hour you were quite amused to listen to the socialites and royalty discuss their strange, outlandish ideals of society and confusingly abstract fashion preferences, though as the night dragged on you found yourself growing irritated by their uptight nature and hollow laughter. Fancy parties of this quality weren't really your thing, although Rarity seemed to be completely in her element- navigating the art of conversation with a quick wit and naturally flattering manner of speaking.
You resolve to spend the next bit of time finding new ways to get a chortle from your pony companion, from making strange faces behind the noble's backs to balancing wine glasses in a pyramid on your nose. Rarity mostly tried to ignore you, although you spotted her suppressing a smile when another party guest asked if you were 'quite alright' and if the look on your 'muzzle' was just a human thing. You finally managed to get an actual laugh at your expense when you added yet another glass on top of the towering wine pyramid, only to have it come crashing down and spilling all over your nice suit.
"Sorry! Sorry," You apologize to the waiter pony who hurried over to sweep the broken glass from the floor with her unicorn telekinesis, wincing when she shot you a dirty look. Rarity had somehow managed to hold in her amusement when you had spilled the wine glasses, but burst into uncontrollable giggles once she saw the waiter's piercing glare. She excused herself from listening to a socialite list her favorite white-toned skirt designs in alphabetical order and trotted over to you, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.
"Oh, Anonymous," She tittered, slipping your ruined coat off of your shoulders with an aura of blue magic. "I am ever so glad I invited you to this event. It most certainly wouldn't be far as entertaining without you."
"Huh, really?" You hum, turning to the side so Rarity can get the suit off easier. "You seemed pretty at home talking to all of those royals."
"Ha! Please," The marshmallow-colored filly mutters, folding the clothing into a neat square. "These nobles are as exciting as the rust on an old needle. All they talk about is the latest fashion trends and what they had for lunch this morning- I'd much rather talk with you."
Suddenly, her smile disappears, replaced with an expression of awe.
You follow her gaze to an effeminate-looking stallion, surrounded by a crowd of sharp-faced, remarkably pretty pony models. His fuchsia mane was styled into a strange, wavy shape with what must have been an entire can of hair spray, and he wore a blanket scarf around his shoulders. Rarity nearly begins to bounce on the spot, opening and shutting her mouth as if wanting to say something.
"Woah, are you okay? Who's that guy?"
"Who's that guy?" Rarity screeches, giving you a startled look. "Only one of the most high-profile fashion designers in all of Equestria! Maynes DeVyne, editor of Glamare magazine and winner of the 'Canterlot's Fall Fashion Gala' award seven years in a row!"
You stare at her blankly.
"Established the Canterlot Institute of Fine Clothing Design twenty years ago? Personally trained nine of Equestria's top fashionistas into the fashion masters they are today? Enjoys long walks on the beach, rollerblading and knitting scarves?"
Rarity had gotten progressively louder and more flustered as she spoke, now panting quietly, face a brighter shade of red than a ripe strawberry. You shake your head slowly, careful not to incite more of her fan filly rage.
"Doesn't ring a bell."
"Just know that his influence is as good as bits in the fashion world!" She huffs, eyeing the models of DeVyne's posse with admiration. "The very mention of your designs in the 'editor's picks' articles of Glamare Magazine is all but guarantee the clothing line will succeed!"
You ponder this information before taking Rarity by the hoof and walking towards DeVyne.
"What are you doing?" Rarity gulps, noticing you were moving her across the ballroom.
"We're off to mingle with Mr. Mayne," You say cheerily, the little resistance Rarity can manage overridden by your superior strength.
"Anonymous, wait just a moment!" She yelps, sapphire eyes darting about uncontrollably. Her marshmallow-like hoof squeezes itself out of your grip, and she stands firmly on the spot. "DeVyne is notoriously fickle about meeting fans- at least, according to a tabloid I read at the market three months ago!"
"You're not just any fan," You reply, stopping for a moment to pick the marshmallow pony up by the belly and holding her more securely in your arms. "You're the owner of the Canterlot Carousel, the newest big thing in the world of high fashion! You're going to talk to him as a colleague, not some run-of-the-mill fashionista hopeful."
Before she can protest any further, you arrive at DeVyne's side and set Rarity down, who brushes her shoulder off with an indignant harrumph. DeVyne's spirited conversation with one of his models fizzle out as his eyes focus on your massive shadow, following the silhouette until meeting your eyes with his.
"I say," He sputters, clapping his hooves together in excitement, massive mane jiggling like jelly at the abrupt movement. "You're that alien fellow, aren't you? Anonymous Human?"
"The one and only."
You sigh inwardly, rather miffed about your name. It was still a sore subject for you, even though a year had passed since you first woke up in Equestria. The name was given to you on a whim by Princess Celestia, ruler of the land you found yourself in, who suggested it jokingly when introducing you to the populace at a highly-attended conference after the princesses had deemed you harmless and 'huggable'. The ponies unfortunately took it quite seriously and you reluctantly accepted it as your name- mostly because you simply couldn't remember your real one. Or anything specific about life where you originally used to live, for that matter.
"What a unique frame..." DeVyne whispers, running a circle around your legs and mumbling out loud. You notice one of his model ponies had taken out a notebook, and seemed to be drawing a sketch of you for future reference. "Such angular features, a smooth, hairless coat...and a truly fashionable sense of style, to boot. Tell me, who designed your clothing?"
You gesture to Rarity, who was suddenly very interested in the intricate ceiling design.
"The lovely mare responsible is right here! Mister DeVyne, if I may introduce you to Rarity, my date," You say in serious tone. Rarity's eyes widen, and a pink tinge appears on her cheeks.
"Rarity, of course, a pleasure to meet you," DeVyne greets, bowing courteously. "I've heard great things about you! Owner of that new boutique, all the ra- I say!" He sprang up a foot in the air once he realized what you said, glancing back and forth between you and Rarity. "Your date, did you say? As in, he is your potential special somepony? You and Mister Anonymous, together, an item?"
"No!" Rarity suddenly sputters, hooves digging into the marble floor. "No, Anonymous is not, in fact, my potential special somepony. Far from it, actually!" She began alternating between glaring daggers at you and aiming apologetic smiles at DeVyne.
Mr. Maynes noticeably was saddened, and lowered his head.
"My apologies, you two," He sighed, running a hoof through his over sized-mane. "I got a little excited there for a second- the very prospect of it is just such a juicy idea!"
You and Rarity glance at each other, then back at DeVyne.
"It is?" You say in unison.
"Yes, yes!" DeVyne cried. "The alien, a world away from home, finds himself in the beautiful lands of Equestria! All alone, no humans to provide company- and yet he finds warmth, romance, true love!" He gets on his hind legs and clutches at his heart. "Not in the arms of another human, but in the hooves of a lovely young filly!"
His model ponies clap politely.
"Ah... nothing quite like a deep connection between individuals of two species. Knowing that despite the physical differences, love has made a match!" DeVyne exhaled, returning his forelegs to the marble floor.
You suppose that does sound sweet, and nod in agreement.
"My wife is a griffin, you know," He trailed on. "Interspecies relationships are a rare, but truly wonderful thing. I was so very enthused to believe I had found a couple kindred couple of souls- but alas, no dice. A shame, really, that such a couple is so hard to find."
"Is that so?" Rarity replies, in a strangely high voice. You glance at her and notice a tiny smile on her lips, most likely because of DeVyne's heartwarming relationship with his wife.
"I can't help but get excited by the idea of it!" DeVyne laughs, running a hoof through his mane once more. "I'd imagine we would make fast friends, my family and that couple."
"Really, now," Rarity replies again, somewhat distractedly. You look at her again to find a confused look on her face, as though she were conflicted about something she had just thought of. DeVyne didn't seem to notice her odd behavior, as he continued to detail his dream inter-species friend couple.
"...We'd play tennis, of course, and I suppose it'd present a challenge of sorts...My wife and I have great co-ordination, I've found, though if the other couple were to have a minotaur that'd present a quite worthy challenge..."
"Minotaurs are known for their powerful serve," The fashionista filly mumbled, breathing heavily, brows furrowed. You wonder if she's only terribly nervous about having a conversation with who must be one of her biggest inspirations.
"Ah, well. Enough about that subject. Anyways- Anonymous, old chap, do you perchance have your sights set on any lucky fillies?"
"Rarity, are you alright?" You inquire, barely paying heed to DeVyne's question, instead distracted by Rarity's entire body suddenly twitching at alarming speeds.
"Mister DeVyne!" Rarity practically yells, sapphire eyes shut tight. "I think you misinterpreted what I said! Anonymous is not my potential special somepony- he is my special somepony!"
Your mouth shoots straight open, and a quiet "hwaueh?" is all you can manage. DeVyne nearly faints on the spot, and begins to fan himself with a hoof. The model ponies ooh and aah, clapping politely once again.
"That's right!" She yells once more, cheeks a bright shade of pink, declaring for all to hear. Every noble and fashionista in the room turns towards her, expressions of bafflement on their muzzles.
"He's my...my...Nonnykins snugglebug!"
The ballroom is completely silent for a moment, before erupting into heated whispers amongst the party guests.
"Rarity!" You sputter, unsure of what was worse- her sudden, anguished declaration of love, or the word snugglebug. "Rarity, what in Equestria are you talking about?" The mare in question takes in the stares of Canterlot nobility, all eyes in the ballroom trained on her, and hesitates for a moment, taking a deep breath, before zoning in on you.
"Nonny-kins, darling," She purrs unconvincingly, straightening your collar with her unicorn magic and booping you on the nose lightly. "I know you wanted to keep all this a secret, but I couldn't help it! Mister DeVyne's heartfelt speech was simply too much to bear, and I just had to let the cat out the bag!" Rarity bats her eyelashes seductively.
"Rarity, Anonymous, this is fantastic news!" DeVyne harps, still bouncing up and down. "I can see a brilliant friendship in our midst- I must take a visit to the Canterlot Carousel soon!"
"Of course, of course!" Rarity gleefully titters. "I'll be in town for a few more weeks!"
"And I'll have to invite you two for dinner sometime- a double date to introduce you to my wife!" He continues, then waves his hoof and waits until a model pony draws out a notebook once more. "Figure skating at that ice rink in the center of town, catching that romantic comedy- great reviews, I've heard- couple activities...the list goes on and on!" He turned to the model pony taking notes and mumbled in hushed tones. "And do write down in the corner there...yes, 'editors picks', if I fancy her designs..."
Rarity nearly fainted, and you quickly steady her by the shoulders. The model pony taking notes coughs for DeVyne's attention, gesturing at an ornate hoof watch around her wrist.
"Well! It seems the time has come for me to return home," DeVyne nods, glancing at you and Rarity, who still looks a little wobbly in the hooves. "It was truly wonderful meeting you two! And Anonymous-" He winks at you, "Keep that mare happy!"
The legendary fashion stallion tosses his scarf over his shoulder and trots away daintily, model ponies following in tandem.
You and Rarity stand there silently for a long moment, before you slowly kneel and grab the mare softly by the shoulders, turning her to face you. Her cheeks are glowing, and she seems to be out of breath from all of the yelling she had just accomplished. You struggle to contain a few choice dirty words before settling on an innocent inquiry.
"Rarity," You say in even, measured tones. "Could you please explain to me just what that was?"
"I know!" She replies, completely missing the underlying rage in your voice. "Maynes DeVyne loved us! I can't believe it- did you hear how excited he was? Oh Nonnykins, come here, you big lug!" Her fluffy arms wrap around you neck, and you struggle to break free from her surprisingly powerful choke hold.
"No, no no no no," You yelp, holding her from afar and jangling her somewhat delicately. "Rarity, did you forget? I'm not actually your special somepony."
Rarity's placid smile slowly turns to a confused frown, then gradually into a look of pure embarrassment as the implications of her impulsive deed seem to finally dawn on her.
"Oh, dear." She whispers. "I seem to have gotten a teensy bit carried away..."
You give her a stone-faced grimace.
"A lot carried away, then," She affirms, scrunching her nose and offering a guilty smile.
"I'm gonna go find that stallion and clear up the confusion," You sigh, getting back up to your feet.
"Anonymous, wait!" Rarity cries, keeping a grasp on your shoulders as you rise and nearly sending the two of you careening to the floor with the unexpected shift in weight. "You can't do that! I- I made a scene in front of everypony!" You tear her off of your dress shirt and hold her face up to eye level.
"I'd be a laughing stock throughout all of Canterlot- all of Equestria!" She wails, sticking her bottom lip out. "Not to mention DeVyne- he's much nicer than I assumed, he'd be destroyed by the news!"
Rarity begins to quiver the bottom lip, sapphire eyes gleaming with tears. You try your hardest not to give in, but the sight of a cute little filly about to cry is simply too much for you to handle. Also, you didn't really want mascara dripping all over what was left of your suit.
"Fine, fine!" You moan, conceding defeat. "I won't tell him. Let's just forget about this and pretend it never happened."
"It wouldn't be that simple," Rarity sniffles, tears subsiding. "What would everypony think of us after that? A day after announcing our love and we break up?"
"Your love," You correct her, booping her softly on the nose. "Announcing your love. And I guess you're right about it not being convincing enough- what do you propose, then?"
"How about you... act as though you're my coltfriend?" She ventures. "We can pretend to be special someponies, at least for a little while."
"...What, like, go on dates?"
"I suppose so," Rarity quietly mumbles, face growing hot. "Of course, nothing would be meant by it, but we would have to keep up appearances. To seal the deal, as it were..."
"Unbelievable," You mutter. Despite every fiber of your being telling you to do otherwise, you eventually find the strength to nod. "Alright. Just for a little while, and no weird stuff. A couple months, at the most."
The fashionista filly breaths a sigh of relief and wraps her hooves around you once more.
"Thank you, Anonymous Human." She whispers, nuzzling into your collarbone. "Or should I say...my handsome widdle snugglebug?"
You already knew this was going to be a long couple months.
The familiar racket of hooves against hardwood echoed about endlessly in your muddled, half-asleep state of mind, nothing but inconsequential noises to your slumbering form. You muster the willpower to lazily crack open your eyes, managing to catch a glimpse of whitish purple, before deeming the heroic act of 'waking up' a losing battle and burrowing further into the cloud-like mattress.
"Anonymous, have you really been sleeping this whole afternoon?"
A blinding flash of gleaming sunlight pulls you violently from your fitful snooze, eliciting high-pitched yelps of agony and three feet of airtime before you unceremoniously tumble off of the delightfully comfy bed and onto the wooden floor. "Owww," You groan, tangled in a knot of blankets that would earn a boy scout badge in rope-tying. "Rarity, what the- why are you in my hotel room?" The mare in question shakes her head disapprovingly, trotting to another window curtain and pulling it back to reveal the afternoon sun.
"We both agreed that, due to our... ahem, situation, it would be easier to just share a suite," Rarity huffs, picking you up by the seat of your pajamas with her unicorn magic and tossing you back into bed. "Or have you forgotten all about that?"
"Doesn't seem to ring a bell."
After all, you did attempt to render yourself unto eternal slumber with several barrels of wine after the events of last night.
Rarity stares at you blankly for a moment before rolling her eyes and surveying the state of the hotel suite. A pair of boxer shorts dangled from the corner of an expensive-looking armchair, pinned to the leather by a half-empty bottle of cider. A laundry hamper dutifully stood filled to the brim with a mound of dirty clothing, the elegant suit from the Gala of the night prior resting proudly on top, still damp with wine. Some cushions were stacked along the top of the antique couch, remnants of a long-forgotten pillow fort.
"How charming," She noted with a pained smile, as though she didn't think it charming at all.
"Don't worry, I'm not usually like this. I just wasn't expecting visitors," You reassured, suppressing a yawn. "Anyways, if you're only here to stop by, I'll just be getting back to sleep...Nighty night, Rares..."
"It happens to be one in the afternoon," Rarity chides, tearing away the thick blankets as you struggled to pull them around yourself. "Returning to bed is out of the question."
With a groan, you roll off of the mattress and perch on the side, accepting your fate.
"Is every human as prone to napping the day away as you appear to be?" She inquires, eyeing a heap of luggage haphazardly strewn about a corner with distaste. "Surely even you aren't in need of that much beauty sleep."
"You'd be surprised," You retort, reaching behind your head and stretching, feeling the tensed muscles in your back loosen before settling down with a pleased sigh. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go put cucumber slices on my eyes."
"Very funny," Rarity replies curtly, beginning to organize your overstuffed bags into a neat pile as you walk past her and into the luxurious, lofty bathroom. "Perhaps once everypony tires of your 'human' novelty you can find work in a local theatre troupe."
"As long as you'd come watch, honeybuns," You respond, splashing a handful of cold water on your face. Rarity titters in amusement, resuming her difficult work of adjusting your suit jackets by designer brand. After a quiet moment, she suddenly jumps with realization.
"Now now, no need for that kind of talk in private," The fashionista filly sputtered, blowing a lock of indigo mane away from her eyes. "A-and this room is an absolute mess! You're lucky you have me around, for the time being."
You shake your head and fold your arms, unwilling to let her change the subject that easily. "Hey, wait. What's wrong with pet names, sugarmuffin?" You stick your head out of the doorway and smile mischievously. She rolls her eyes and sighs deeply, exasperatedly rubbing the bridge of her muzzle with a hoof. "I thought you were all about commitment to the role, my little butterscotch cookie mix."
Her face begins to take on a slight tinge of pinkish-red, and she opens and closes her mouth before pouting and furiously stuffing pairs of underwear into a luggage case haphazardly. "You know very well I have no problems with...us acting, as it were," She huffs, slamming the lid of the case shut and squaring it neatly in the pile. "But tone it down a bit, if you would, darling?"
"Did I do something wrong, my dearest sweetiebun berrybiscuit? My adorable marshmallow lemoncake-"
You're met with a pillow to the face.
A sudden rapping at the door is met with a simultaneous yelp of surprise, and Rarity answering the door as you rub your injured cheek. She glares at you and sticks a tongue out before cracking the door open with her telekinesis, nearly bumping snout-first into the creased cap of a young mailmare. The delivery pony waves a package casually in the grip of her hoof, squinting at a clipboard held behind the doorway. "Express delivery for a one mister A-nonnymous Human!"
"Oh, that's me," You reply, wandering over and delicately taking the elaborate-looking box from her hold. "Thanks, miss." She nods enthusiastically and darts down the hallway, saluting as she runs, nearly tripping over the carpet on more than one occasion.
You walk over to the bed and gingerly set the gift down, wrappings crackling incessantly. It was a box of some kind, expertly tied in a sleek layer of silvery paper, carved from bottom to top in a confusingly intricate design of weaving lines and diamond-shaped curves. It kind of reminded you of some installations from that Manehattan Modern Art museum you visited quite a while back, and- similar to those same installations- you didn't see the point of it.
"It certainly looks... interesting," Rarity notes, poking at the gaudy design of the box and frowning slightly. "Who do you suppose sent it?"
"Oh, it says right here," You exclaim, bending closer to read the tiny print attached to the lid. "Enclosed is as follows...an exclusive gift, a very high-class, haute couture, box designed and hand crafted by the hooves of only the most experienced designers in Prance, Hayris..."
"Though you certainly couldn't tell," The mare beside you voices dryly.
"Naught but the finest of materials were used in the development of this box- a true work of art, stylish and bold in it's simplicity..." You pause for a moment, glancing up from the card and whistling. "Wow, they really put a lot of work into this thing."
Rarity impatiently muscles the package from your arms and continues from where you left off. "...It's a design that has lasted for generations- square, cubical, elegant. An abstract form of art, packaging an act of beauty in itself...?" She shakes her head, pouting. "My, I thought you were joking."
Her hooves dangle the box back towards your face, and you finish the last paragraph. "From time immortal boxes have accompanied Ponykind into new life, through trials and tribulations, centuries and decades. Yet none has ever existed a box so fine as this." The line of text trails off, leading down to the other side of the box in glittering gold ink. You sigh and twist Rarity's hooves forward.
"...Ordered and sent by Maynes DeVyne."
"Maynes De- open it open it open it!" Your companion yelps excitedly, clutching your arms and bouncing up and down.
You twist open the lid and lean over the hole, nearly smushing into Rarity's own muzzle as you both inspect the contents. Two silver-embroidered tickets lay intertwined upon a bed of shredded gold, shimmering in the morning sunlight.
"Tickets!" Rarity squeaks, tittering with delight.
"Tickets?" You question, scratching the back of your head.
"Anonymous! Tickets to the..." She reads one of the slips, "Selle Blanc?! One of the most exclusive and illustrious dining establishments in all of Canterlot?!"
"That sounds great and all," You sigh, picking up the box and studying the faceted designs. "But did you hear that box description? I was expecting...like diamonds, or something."
"The reservation is for tonight!" Rarity gasps, glancing about the hotel room with horror. "We simply must be getting ready! I've got to make adjustments to your suit...call in a favor at the mane salon..." The filly flitted back and forth across the floor, gathering up your wine-stained suit and a bundles of dresses, digging through her luggage case and throwing fabrics over her shoulder.
"...Or maybe at least a bracelet. Tickets? That box really prepped me up, and you know what? Didn't deliver."
Rarity pulls you into the bathroom by the collar of your shirt, hooves full of a vibrant array of clothing and sewing materials.
"No time to waste, darling! Now, to clean that suit of yours..."
The gravel from underneath crackled audibly as your carriage pulled before the Selle Blanc's marble stone pathway, grinding to an abrupt halt. Rarity glances at you, concerned, before sighing reluctantly and stepping out of the coach herself.
"You know I'd help you out under normal circumstances," You wheeze, chin nearly swallowed by your tuxedo's ridiculously tight collar. "But I can't seem to move my arms up more than a couple feet, for some reason." You demonstrate by flapping your arms furiously, rocking the carriage back and forth, and looking quite a bit like an injured bird under Fluttershy's care.
"I already apologized, Anonymous," Rarity huffed, attempting to conceal her smile with a stern face. "And it's not as though you could wear a stained suit to a place like the fabulous Selle Blanc!" She gestured to the sprawling, extravagant structure standing magnificently tall, framed by moonlight and overlooking the valleys of land beneath Canterlot.
Despite her well-practiced stain removal spell and several minutes of enthusiastic scrubbing, the wine from earlier had refused to come out. The filly's only possible course of action was, much to your chagrin, to stuff you inside a 'practice' tuxedo several sizes too small. It was an understandable decision, all things considered. However, right now, things like 'understanding' and 'reason' were starting to pale in comparison to 'not being eaten alive by your own tuxedo'.
After the arduous journey of waddling up the winding marble staircase to the restaurant- which comprised of Rarity turning towards you every few seconds to give you a polite word of encouragement- you find yourself in a soaking pile of sweat and tight fabric by the extravagantly decorated entrance.
"Raaaarity," You moan, clawing dramatically at the air. "I can barely... breathe... in this thing."
The fashionista filly offers a sympathetic coo and pats you on the head.
"Anonymous, darling, I know atmosphere in these high-class establishments can be suffocating," She sighed. "But we haven't even gone in yet."
Rarity barely contains an unladylike fit of laughter, ignoring the death glare on your face that would give even Princess Celestia pause.
"Oh, alright. Come on, get up, you ruffian," The 'element of Generosity' huffs. "This'll only be a one time thing, I promise! And after dinner, Nonny, maybe I'll even throw in a few tailored suits- free of charge, of course."
"That so?" You wheeze, perking up a little. Special-order clothing for someone of a unique stature, which you certainly had, was ridiculously expensive across Equestria. Hundreds of bits apiece was on the low end of prices in Canterlot. And, considering your habit of bartering with puppydog eyes and a quivering lip hardly ever worked with Rarity... it was a generous deal, alright. "Tall order."
She nods, unbuttoning the topmost collar on your tuxedo. "Celestia knows we can't let this happen again,"
You grin, clicking your tongue disapprovingly. "Again? Just how many dates do you plan to take me on?"
"Word of advice, dearest, don't provoke the mare with her hooves adjusting your bow tie," Rarity replies, smiling sweetly. "And that reminds me. We really must establish some ground rules before we go on."
"Right, good idea," You nod in agreement. "Wouldn't want me to use the wrong soup spoon and dishonor you for life."
The filly considers this seriously for a moment before shaking her head. "Well, I was thinking more along the lines of 'no ill-timed jokes'," She explains. "Fair idea, though."
You stroke your chin thoughtfully. "I see. It's the salad fork that'll bring the dishonor upon your name, then."
"Rule number one, darling," Rarity chides. "Something I've read about- Maynes DeVyne is almost always surrounded by crowds of press when he goes out in public. If they happen to snap a few pictures of us, please try not to do anything embarrassing."
"Nothing I do is embarrassing."
She raises an eyebrow slightly and glances you up and down. "No comment, darling."
After making a few other last minute adjustments to the tuxedo, the two of you finally stand side by side at the entrance to the Selle Blanc. From outside you could see the silhouettes of ponies seated by candlelight, the occasional waiter sweeping by to cast dancing shadows on dimly lit walls. You take a sidelong look at Rarity, who doesn't notice you watching, as she takes a deep, rumbling breath that fogs the crystal glass before you.
"Shall we?" Your companion asks quietly.
You wordlessly take her hoof in your hand and step forward, ignoring her squeak of protest. "We shall."
The interior of the Selle Blanc was every bit as stunning as the building itself. Beyond the front desk of the restaurant was a wide, luxuriously spaced dining room, with room-high windows obscured by elegant curtains laced with golden thread. The first thing to catch your eye was the incredibly elaborate chandelier hanging center by a glowing aura of blue, spiral-shaped and dotted with orbs of spinning energy. You remember Rarity saying something about the chandelier actually being lit and held in the air by a unicorn who they payed to sit and focus.
Beneath the hanging light and across the center of the room were diamond-shaped tables of glimmering wood. Each was occupied by, from what you could tell, nobles and aristocrats with slicked-back hair and silver-rimmed monocles. Between the windows and red velvet walls were beige partitions of deep-button tufting half the height of the room, fitted with cushioned seats along the corners.
You draw up to the front desk, 'date' still in hand. "Reservation for Anonymous and Rarity," You nod at the stallion behind the table, staring bewilderingly.
"R-right this way, sir, madam," He stutters, noticeably surpressing a gulp. "Mr. DeVyne and his wife are expecting you."
As the server stallion makes his way through the restaurant, you turn and wink at Rarity.
"I bet the food here is simply DeVyne."
"Please behave."
