Author's Note
I usually don't show people what I write. This is probably, like, my third time doing it online? Leave me some feedback, especially if you're gonna leave a down-vote.
Chapter 1
Rover tightened his lips slightly around his yellowed fangs, absentmindedly running his tongue over the largest of them. This caused his face to contort, not in a display of emotion, but in a habitual and passive manner somewhat akin to the look of an elder chewing tobacco. He was calm, both physically and mentally, as he worked.
In this passive state, he thought very little, and worked with extreme efficiency. The manual labor of tugging a cart by the end of a rope was simple, and because his mind was empty and his emotions were nonexistent, he was able to perform that simple task quickly and without distraction.
The fact that the rope he was pulling was the last that his now shrunken pack had was known to him, but was not sufficiently important so as to require immediate attention. The cart he was pulling was the last he needed to move that day, and he had earlier decided that the supply shortage was an issue that could wait until after the day's duties were attended to.
He turned a corner within his mines, and felt a very sudden and sharp resistance on the other end of his tug. Then, as quickly as it came, the resistance disappeared, but the weight of his cart and cargo disappeared along with it. There was a soft sound of collision with dirt, and Rover turned to investigate.
He squinted his wide eyes, creasing his brow in tired frustration, and he saw that not only had his last, short rope frayed and torn, but it had split near the middle of its length. A drawn out sigh sounded from his throat, more a soft growl than anything. The rope was ruined, and now, since he was on duty for the day, he would have to find a way to get more.
Diamond dogs are resourceful in many cases, but tool crafting was, for Rover, a weak point. He couldn't even manage to wipe with a leaf, so there was little chance that he'd ever successfully braid out a rope from their raw supplies. That, to his immense chagrin, left only one option.
He'd have to go into town and buy some rope from the ponies.
During the short trek to Ponyville from the mines, Rover's face underwent a transformation involving several emotions. Upon the realization that he would, indeed, need to go into town and deal with ponies, his calmly pursed lips tightened further, and his eyelids drooped into an irritated squint. When he actually left his pack's tunnels and was faced with the summer heat and the orange sunlight of the late afternoon, both his irritation and his brow deepened. He settled into a quiet anger.
A small bag of gems hung from one paw's grip, and his other paw swung tensely as he walked. He hoped that whoever he would buy from would be willing to trade for gems, and beyond that, he hoped he had brought enough to afford what he needed.
Eventually, Rover reached the edge of town. He sighed with slight relief at that, considering the physical portion of his task over for now. He sighed again, this time in frustration, as he caught sight of the first ponies loosely dispersed across the area. They caught sight of him too, though, and as he expected from the timid ponies of Equestria, they panicked and ran and screamed and all but boarded themselves up in their homes.
Resigning himself to what would likely be a needlessly difficult and excessively stupid shopping trip, Rover began to march inwards on Ponyville's Main Street. Soon, however, he realized he had a major problem on his paws. He had no idea where to get rope.
Would there be a store specifically for it? He knew ponies liked their businesses isolated and labeled to satisfy their overly active obsessive compulsiveness. But maybe rope was too specific. What if he was looking for a more general shopping center? Perhaps one that sold strings and twines would have what he needed.
His reasoning didn't matter much, he decided. He still didn't know where he was going. The ponies' roads were grid-like and appeared to have a system, but Rover wasn't the brightest, and thus had difficulty figuring out which direction to go when two roads crossed.
He walked to a house with flower beds and slightly stomach-turning pink shutters that looked friendly enough. With intent to ask for directions, he knocked on the door.
"The horror! The horror!" a mare inside screamed, triggering several consecutive screams in the adjacent houses. Rover realized he was on his own. He growled, and his scowl deepened.
Fueled by aggravation and his own ever-shrinking patience with ponies in general, Rover made a quick decision. His earlier reasoning, he figured, was as close to a real plan as he would get. He needed a store that sold string, or maybe cloth. A fabric shop, perhaps? That sounded reasonable, at least.
The dog wandered for some time, scanning buildings and signs with his limited literacy for what he needed. Ponies would flee from him on sight more and more quickly until he didn't even see them before they scuttled off like insects into the shadows. His surroundings became still and quiet, and it seemed to him that he had become alone.
Out of the silence, a noise reached Rover's ears. It was a faint clatter and a squeak which looped and repeated. He heard it quietly at first, so quietly that he didn't notice it, but it grew steadily louder. His ears swiveled to face the sound, and he realized suddenly that, whatever it was, it was approaching. He decided to wait for it.
Soon enough, a cart pulled around a corner and into his line of sight, full to the brim with apples and led by a scarlet pony. The pony, a stallion, burly as they come, halted momentarily to eye Rover, but continued shortly on his way. He seemed unbothered by the dog.
Rover stood rooted, eyes and ears trained on the pony curiously. The stallion, as he neared to pass the diamond dog, took notice. "Ya' need something?" he asked.
Rover locked eyes with the pony. Was he really just... talking to him, even as the others crept through the shadows and behind their locked doors? It seemed odd to him, but the dog decided that this would likely be his only offer for any kind of assistance in this town. “Yes,” he answered, his voice only a step down from breathless and a step above a rasp. “I’m looking for a fabric store.”
The pony eyed him, looking him first up, then down before shrugging that odd pony shrug and pointing directly to his right. “That big buildin’ right there’s the Carousel Boutique. They should have what ya’ need.”
The building was imposing, and Rover had noticed it the moment it came into sight. But it looked something like a circus tent to him, so he had dismissed it immediately. He wondered what sort of loon would run a store out of something like that. “Really? It doesn't even have a sign.”
“Eyup. It’s kinda’ highbrow, so I guess most ponies who’d go there already know what it is. Ain't no real need for a sign.”
Rover thought that was just about the dumbest thing he’d ever heard, but he didn't really need to say anything. He knew where he was going now. Without further comment, the diamond dog turned and walked.
He was fine, then, up until he reached the door of the Boutique. It was a terrifying purple that reminded him of a distant and past experience he would’ve liked to have forgotten. His ears folded down as he remembered that shrill whining, and he shuddered. The door couldn't stop Rover, though it severely unnerved him. He had a job to do, so he entered the building. A small bell chimed as the door swung open, and he glanced at it curiously.
Almost instantly, a very familiar voice called out from somewhere deeper in the store. "I'll be with you in just a moment, darling."
The fur on Rover's back stood straight, and his ears snapped to attention. He trembled in place, whale-eyed and fearful. This was most certainly not something he had been expecting.
The whiny pony ran the store? What would she do when she saw him here, on her property? In groups, diamond dogs were strong, but alone, Rover wasn't sure he could fend off a pup! He needed to run.
But it was too late. He heard a gasp, then the heavy metallic sound of a deadbolt sliding into place. Suddenly, his vision was full of white fur and angry eyes. "What," Rarity asked, "do you think you are doing here?"
"I—"
"You what?" Rarity was barely keeping her tone level. Her teeth ground audibly. "You came to kidnap me again, perhaps?"
"No, I didn't even—"
"Or, maybe you came for revenge! You poor, emasculated pup. You couldn't stand the fact that you were defeated by a mare."
"That doesn't—"
"So, how were you going to do it? What sort of scheme did you come up with after all this time? Public humiliation? Vandalism? Murder?!"
"Shut up, pony! Shut up!" Rover screeched. "Your yelling is worse than your whining!" His paws covered his ears. "Ugh... It feels like I'm bleeding," he moaned.
Rarity huffed, but relaxed her posture and stepped back from the diamond dog. Now, only her slight scowl remained. She waited for the dog to stop his complaints.
Rover took a minute, but looked to her. "I came here," he said, breathing for a moment, "to buy some rope."
The mare seemed confused for a moment. "Rope?"
"Yes, Rope. The pack needs to resupply,"
"Rover," the mare raised a brow, "I'm a fashionista and a tailor. Why would you come here for that?"
Rover paused, not quite understanding her logic. He had worked it out himself. This was the place to be for what he needed. There was no way he was wrong. "This is a fabric store. You sell strings and cloth, and rope is just a big string."
He found himself more confused as he heard a muffled snicker escape Rarity's lips. Why would she laugh? What was funny?
"Darling, first of all, I'm almost insulted that you would consider this a mere 'fabric store'. This is the Carousel Boutique, where I, personally, make sure that everything is chic, unique, and magnifique."
Rover opened his mouth to speak before being cut off, yet again, by Rarity.
"And, second, we don't carry rope. I would suggest trying a hardware store." She turned away and left the room.
Rover had expected her to be bitter, but was still somewhat grateful for the advice. He undid the deadbolt and began to walk out of the Boutique. The dog didn't get far though, before Rarity's voice called out from the door, just loud enough for him to hear.
"Actually, Rover," she said, "I think I may be able to help you."
He stopped, turning listen.
"I'm fairly certain that I still have an old spool in my storeroom. I remember buying to use it with my curtains, or something of the like. I'd sell it to you, just so long as you don't mind using gold and purple rope."
Rover sighed. Anything would work at this point, he figured. He was too tired to care anyway. “Can I see it first?”
“Of course, of course! Come in. Just follow me.”
He did, and Rarity led him inside and downstairs to what appeared to be a basement slash storeroom. There were rolls of cloth of all different patterns and spools of thread overflowing shelves yet somehow remaining organized. Rover was almost amazed by the sheer quantity of material in the room. How much could one mare need for one business? This seemed incredibly excessive to him, despite the fact that he liked to hoard gems with a passion that rivaled that of a dragon..
In the corner of the room, partially hidden under a draping scrap of some silky material, was an absolutely obscene spool of rope. It appeared reasonably strong and durable to him, but the coloring was, indeed, outrageous. Gaudy was an understatement. The dog thought it was ugly.
Rarity saw the face he was making. “I know it looks... bad, but it should do the job.”
Rover nodded. He uncoiled a segment and pulled it in either paw. The rope was strong. It would do. “How much?” he asked.
The mare smiled and eyed the coil for a moment. “Let’s say… ten bits? Is that acceptable?”
Rover scrunched his face up, causing Rarity to pull her head back slightly. “I do not have any bits.”
Rarity deadpanned. “No bits.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t have any bits.”
“None.”
“You came into town to buy rope without any bits.”
“Yes.”
“Not to offend, darling, but are you an idiot?”
“Sometimes, yes.”
“What, exactly, were you planning on using to acquire the rope?”
“Gems.”
Rarity laughed heartily. “Oh, you had me worried. I can work with gems. In fact, I am in dire need of a few sapphires for a recent commission.”
Rover took out the bag he had brought, which he had stuck in a pocket earlier on, and opened it. Rarity leaned in close and drooled a bit at the sight of the trove in the dog’s possession. “How many is ten bits?” he asked.
The mare’s eyes widened, and she seemed to Rover to be shocked. Then, a glint of what appeared to be joy entered here expression. It was a wicked, kind of scary joy that, once again, set Rover’s fur on end. She reached for the bag before halting all at once. Her face softened, and she locked eyes with the diamond dog, then she looked back down at the bag.
Rover puzzled over what the emotional roller-coaster was all about as Rarity, calmly and gently, sifted through the bag and retrieved four small blue gems. “I will consider this sufficient payment.”
He nodded, taking this as his cue to leave. Very quickly, the barrel was in his arms and he was heading upstairs. Rarity followed, watching him with sudden renewed interest. He made it to the door before he was told to “hold on” by Rarity.
“Darling,” she said, “I’m terribly sorry, but I can’t in good conscience let you leave wearing that.”
“What?”
“Your vest, dear. It looks terrible.” Using her magic, she gently extracted the spool from the dog’s grasp, as well as the dog from his vest’s grasp. She held the offending piece of clothing up to her face and examined it. “Honestly, have you ever washed it? It’s filthy, and it’s full of holes! I’m not sure I can even make proper repairs to this, Rover. I’ll likely need to simply make a new one.”
“What?”
The mare ignored him, and trotted to the nearest sewing machine. Of course, she had one in nearly every room, so she didn't need to go far.
Rover, completely baffled, followed. She was making a new vest? For him? Surely that’s too much work to just do on the spot. And why in Tartarus would she make anything for him? She should hate him! He kidnapped her! Sure, she had whined until he had given up and let her go, but it’s the principle.
He was shaken from his thoughts by a ripping sound, followed by a tearing sound, followed by an angry red in his vision as he saw his vest torn apart at the seams by Rarity’s magic. His fury dissipated, however, when she pulled new cloth out of nowhere and began to trace the pieces to create new ones in the new material. The copies were pristine and exact, and were sewn together within a quarter of an hour, although Rover was too entranced by her quick work to even tell that time was passing. To him, it seemed miraculous.
He was handed the new vest, bright red, soft and thick. The dog stood there, holding it for a minute or two before looking up to Rarity. “How much?” he asked.
“It’s free, darling. My gift,” she said with smile.
If he was confused before, now his reality was falling apart around him. Rarity, a mare he had kidnapped and tried to force to work in the mines, albeit unsuccessfully, had made him a new vest for free. “Why?”
“Your old one was little more than a rag, dear. I couldn't stand the thought of anybody wearing it, not even you.”
“I've got more gems. Are you sure you—”
“Rover, it’s fine. I assure you.”
He cocked his head.
“Now shoo, I have several dresses to finish this evening.”
Rover couldn’t sleep. This was a first for him. He was a dog, and dogs can always sleep. But Rover, on this particular night, could not. He was troubled, but not physically or with dread of some oncoming task. If that were the case he would have been fine. He had been through that before.
No, Rover was troubled emotionally. As he lay in his chambers, staring off into the dark, he ran a paw over the edge of his vest. He had worn it out the door of the Carousel Boutique that evening, and had kept it on all the way up until now. It certainly felt nicer than his old one. The fabric was soft and fresh, and there was no longer dirt caught in between his fur and his clothing. He liked it immensely.
He looked to his doorway and the faint candlelight beyond, deciding that he was alone. He would need to be undisturbed and unseen. Rover slowly, sitting up in his straw bed, removed the vest and pressed it to his face. It smelled like his sweat and the dirt that he works in from day to day, but beyond that, he detected something else. There was a faint and pleasant scent, a barely clinging remnant of the vest’s source. It was something between lilac and lavender, and Rover had never smelled anything like it.
As he sat and breathed through the fabric, the scent so rare and delightful to him brought forth images in his mind of open fields and peace and relaxation. This was new to him, and he loved it. The dog smiled through the cloth, big and toothy but full of a joy that he had never had before.
He fell asleep with his vest draped over his muzzle, and a few hours later, he woke up with it exactly as he had left it. The first thing he sensed on the new day was the smell of flowers embedded in his clothing. His eyes opened calmly and with more of a flutter than he had ever had before. He stared down the red garment, realizing that this was far superior to his old one. Even when it was new, the old one had been stiff and dusty. It had been cheap and the color had been somewhat dull.
But what he held in his paws was new and beautiful. Its color was vibrant and fresh, and its texture was soft and comfortable. Even the seams were cleaner than those of its predecessor. The only thing that could possibly make it better would be having more than one.
Rover paused at the thought. More than one vest? No, that would be silly. More clothes in general though… He liked that idea. But how? Where would he buy clothing for diamond dogs? His vest had been a fluke find at a pawn shop when he was young, and he had stolen it. Certainly nopony nearby had any idea how to even begin making clothes for his kind.
He sighed, eyes turning down for a moment, before holding up his vest one last time. It was then that he noticed something small but odd in the inner lining. Right below the collar, centered so that it could be seen through the part in the garment’s front, was a tag. Rover leaned in, squinting to inspect it. The tag was white and silky and double-stitched into the fabric. On the small square, an image of a deep violet scripted ‘R’ was sewn in delicately and precisely. In the head of the letter were two familiar eyes.
“Rarity,” Rover muttered. That’s where he could get what he wanted. She did so well on this vest, so why couldn’t she do more?
Rover made a very quick decision then. Carefully slipping on his coat, he moved to the center of the room. The floor was flat dirt here, indistinguishable from the rest. But Rover knew its secret. He dug straight down several feet before coming upon a wooden barrier. With a small amount of effort on his part, he forced it out of the way, revealing three large bags of gems. This was his personal stash.
The sun was still huddled at the horizon, and the sky was at the end of its fiery morning glow. Rover found himself confused as he stood at the door to the Carousel Boutique reading the little black and white sign hung over the door. It was one of those store-bought ‘closed’ signs.
How could she be closed? She was open yesterday! That was only hours ago, if you thought about it. Why would she have closed her whole store overnight? She seemed to have had plenty of business, if her abundance of fabric and need to shoo him away to work were things to go by. Surely she couldn’t have just gone out of business!
Rover began to panic before hearing a gasp off in the distance. He turned to look, following his ears, and saw a mare poking her head out of the door of a building. When she saw him, she squeaked and flipped a sign, nearly identical to Rarity's, on her front door before slamming the door and likely hiding under a bed.
Rover understood then. Being closed didn't mean that the Boutique was out of business. It simply meant that they wouldn't receive customers until they were open again. He sat down to wait.
And his wait was rewarded. Within what Rover felt was a bearable amount of time, the heavy purple door creaked open, revealing to him a tired looking alabaster mare with her mane curlers still in. With her magic, she gently lifted the 'closed' sign off the door and set it aside. Rarity then took notice of the gem-burdened diamond dog sitting patiently on her front step. "Rover?" She muttered, blinking sleepily.
Rover stood. "Yes," he said.
"Yes?"
"Yes, I am Rover."
Rarity seemed puzzled for a moment before she sighed. "Yes, well... Good morning, Rover. Would you like some tea?" She seemed incredibly unsure of her question.
Rover had no idea what tea was or why she was offering it to him, but she had made him a new vest, so surely he could trust her to an extent. "Yes?" He was just as unsure in his reply.
"Well then, come inside. Take a seat wherever you like." Rarity had what he thought was a strange expression on her face. She was almost smiling, but everything except her lips were twisted into something resembling confusion.
"Yes," Rover said. He followed her as she went inside. He then continued to follow her into the kitchen, a clean and organized little room.
Rarity gestured to the table, and Rover, feeling somewhat awkward, pulled out a chair to sit down. As the mare shuffled various things about on the counter with her magic, Rover examined the room. He noticed most prominently that there were freshly used dishes in the sink that he could still smell the food on. He detected eggs and toast, slightly burnt, with strawberry jam. Rarity must've just eaten breakfast, he figured.
Speaking of the mare, she laid a small and extremely fragile looking saucer and teacup down in front of him. The liquid inside, translucent and brown, was still steaming. Rarity herself held a mug of coffee, which, to Rover, smelled strong and black and unadulterated.
Ever so quietly, Rarity took a seat across from Rover and sipped her mug. She said nothing for a few moments. Suddenly, she tilted her drink back and downed it. Rover was amazed that she wasn't whining about scald burns. The mare's eyes opened wide, and she made a pleased face. "Ah, that's much better. I never can quite get by without a little caffeine in the morning."
Rover sat quietly. She was odd.
"Darling, you haven't touched your tea," Rarity said, using her magic to gently work a curler out of her mane.
Rover looked down into the brown pool in his cup. It smelled like water, but also like something else. It was something organic. Some kind of leaf, perhaps. He picked up the cup by the handle, feeling incredibly silly because his paw was so large that he had to grasp it with three digits, leaving his smallest hanging out in the air.
Gently raising the teacup, he lifted it to his jagged lips and sipped it. The taste was very similar to water, if a little bitter. He wasn't fond of it, but he finished the glass to avoid any possible whining from Rarity.
He glanced at the mare, and was confused when he saw that she seemed impressed by something. "What'd I do?" He asked.
"You have excellent table manners. I simply expected you to be more... sloppy, at the very least."
Rover noted that he should probably drink like that from then on. It was apparently a good thing.
"Never mind that. You obviously came here for a reason. Just excuse me for a moment so that I can remove these curlers, and I'll be right back to help you."
Rover nodded. After she left the room, he took the bags he had with him and opened each to see what he had. His personal stash was where he had been putting his own cut of the pack's gems for years. He never had anywhere to spend it though, so it built up to a fair size over time. Each gem was pristinely cleaned and shined, so the pile in each bag seemed to glow dazzlingly in the morning light. He was sure this would be enough.
Rarity returned. Her mane was glossy, freshly set in its daily shape. Rover hated to admit that it looked nice. "Now, what did you need, Rover?"
Holding the bags pinched in his claws, he looked up at the fashionista. "You said you made dresses?"
Rarity nodded, prompting him to go on.
"And you also make clothes for... males?"
"I made what you're wearing, dear. That is a men's garment."
Rover felt nervous suddenly. The emotion felt unusual to him. He didn't like it. "Would this be enough for something?" he asked as he opened the three bags of jewels.
Rarity's eyes lit up, and her jaw lowered closer to the floor. "Yes," she was barely able to gasp out. The mare seemed to be on the verge of drooling, but she very quickly collected and composed herself. "I'd say that would be worth several of my designs."
"How many?"
"May I see them?"
Rover nodded and handed over each bag. Rarity sifted through the horde with her hoof, lifting several individual pieces and eyeing them in examination. She then closed the bags and lifted them each individually with her magic. "Depending on the complexity and difficulty of the designs, I would be willing to make anywhere from ten to fifteen for you."
That was... That was much more than Rover had been expecting. By no means, however, was he complaining. This was what he wanted. This was even better than what he wanted. "Yes," he mumbled dumbly.
"What was that, Rover?"
"The number is good. When can we start?" The dog smiled, showing his teeth somehow without seeming intimidating to the pony.
Rarity smiled as well, clearly enjoying his excitement. "Right now if you'd like, but just so you're aware, I won't be able to do these all together. I have several commissions already scheduled for this week, and a sudden introduction of this much work simply isn't possible. At best, I'll be able to finish the first today. The rest will have to wait."
Rover was saddened by the news, and visibly showed it. His ears lay back, and he almost whimpered. "We can start today, though?"
"Absolutely. But, I must say I’m surprised to find that you want anything to do with fashion, and I’m even more surprised that you seem to have taken an interest in my fashion in particular. What made you choose the Carousel Boutique?”
The dog was taken off guard by the question. It was more personal than he had expected. He thought on an answer for a moment before speaking. “It smells nice.”
