Prologue - A Night on the Town
“Dear sweet Celestia, this is gonna be boring.” As a loud groan escaped his throat, an earth pony in a carefully-tailored tuxedo turned to his friend and cuffed him upside his head as he finished closing the door to the penthouse hotel suite they'd just left.
“Sec, you've done nothing but whine since we left Canterlot. Can't you take just the slightest amount of pride in what we're doing?” High Security's face wrinkled at that, the gray pegasus using one wing to adjust the undersized formal vest he was wearing for the evening. He tried to straighten out his storm-blue mane as he retorted to his comrade's teasing.
“Pride in what? Playin' watchdog for a spoiled brat nopony's ever gonna waste their money tryin' to kill?”
“Guarding a Prince of Equestria, yes. Blueblood might not exactly be the easiest guy to like, but that's why we're here in the first place. Have you ever read his mail?” Warden, a pony of few words with white fur and a bleach-blonde mane, could be identified as a royal guard by the blind at a hundred yards. His longtime partner was also his best friend, and had been for years, but he'd entertained notions of strangling Security more than once over that mouth of his.
“Yeah, I opened a letter the mailpony told me was a little fishy once. Wound up growin' gills for a week, they said the envelope was covered in Poison Joke.” He shuddered slightly before continuing. “Haven't gone near the mailroom since.”
“So, doesn't that prove that Blueblood's got some ponies out for him?” Warden took up his usual position standing watch at the prince's hotel room door. High Security sat at the end of the hall, covering the bay window looking out over the Manehattan skyline.
“Yeah, I guess. Still, there's a long way to go between magic pranks and hardcore assassins. To hear Dad tell it, he never walked ten feet without seein' some action! We ain't had so much as a heckler in three weeks, bud.” Warden chuckled and replied in as dry and sarcastic a tone as he could manage.
“Sec, your father is Maximum Security. Y'know, 'Mad Max'? If we had anything like his kind of 'action', I'd probably be sporting an eyepatch and a pegleg or two by now. Be glad we've got a quiet detail here, it means we're doing our job.”
“Hmph. Still means we're sittin' on our tails here. Hay, I didn't even get window duty! Night Shift's out there gettin' to play in the updrafts all night.” The anxious pegasus stretched his wings once to emphasize his point, then drew a book from one of the pockets on his vest and cracked it open to find where he'd last left off.
“Could be worse.” Warden's eyes narrowed mischievously. “You could have drawn the short stick and been stuck on 'The Prince's Royal Bedroom' duty tonight.” High Security just gave a disgusted look at that and went back to his book. He certainly didn't envy their squad's unicorn rookie, Shooting Star, her loudly-snoring roommate.
"Well, at least then I'd have been in my armor instead of this ridiculous vest." Loosening his tie slightly, Warden found himself conceding that point. Shooting Star and Night Shift did get to avoid wearing formal dress for the evening.
Having found his page, High Security started his quiet reading for the night. Occasionally he'd glance up to find that, indeed, nopony had managed to shatter the window above him and break into the hallway unnoticed. Likewise, Warden settled into a routine of glancing to the right, the left, and then over at the window just every so often, otherwise just standing at his post and letting his mind wander. His hoof occasionally tapping out whatever tune happened to cross his mind, Security sometimes turning a page and Blueblood's echoing snores were the only sounds to be heard in the short top-floor hallway. All was still. 'Round about midnight, however, things subtly began to change.
Warden's ear twitched. A slight sound over his shoulder was demanding his attention. It was the faintest thing, just the air behind him moving slightly. He looked back quickly, seeing nothing but the still-locked doors of the prince's suite. Shrugging it off as nerves, the veteran royal guard checked the rest of the hallway to be safe and then returned his gaze to a point beyond the opposite wall. Then he felt it again. Not really even a sound but simply a presence, slightly closer this time. He tried to ignore it for a few moments, but the niggling feeling finally got the better of him. Warden turned around completely this time, once more finding nothing there to declare itself. High Security noticed the sudden movement with an air of amusement.
“What's wrong, Colt Scout? Is the wall actually a changeling?”
“No, it's just... I don't know, an itch on my ear or something. Get back to your book.” He continued in an indignant huff, “You could do with a little paranoia yourself, you know? Keeps a guy alert.”
“Nah, bud, you've got plenty for the both of us.” With a toothy grin that would make an Appleloosan jealous, Security went back to his reading and left Warden to swallow his pride. Resuming his post, he did just that... until, like clockwork, the odd feeling returned moments later. Determined not to feed his friend any more ammo for the next morning's team debrief, Warden stoically stared straight forward, the presence over his shoulder seemingly determined to stay exactly where it was. Then, the increasingly-frustrated Warden noticed something else that was off.
“Hey, Sec... do you, by any chance, smell roses?”
“Sarge, just because you're gettin' bored doesn...” Security stopped mid-sentence, sniffing at the oddly fragrant air. “...huh. Y'know, you're right. Did Blueblood have any of those flowers from the ballroom brought up with us earlier?” This observation set the red flags in Warden's head waving like mad.
“No, he didn't.” Warden's voice dropped to a whisper. “I think that might be perfume, mate. Not my scent, either.” Looking directly above himself, Warden gave the ventilation ducts a hard glare. “Sec, get up there and check the vent.” The moment he said that, there was a pronounced shuffling sound several feet back in the piping. Instantly, High Security leaped from his seat at the window and struck aside the ornate grate over the ductwork, flying as much as climbing into the ventilation pipe.
A moment's glance down the narrow tube showed a pony's black tail fleeing down a vertical shaft at the end of the vent, the fan in the way stopped mid-turn by a wooden wedge. Lying abandoned on the vent shaft's floor was a small but razor-sharp jeweled dagger. Growling angrily, Security snatched up the knife and gave chase, squeezing his way through after the suspect and calling quickly back to Warden to confirm a pursuit. Warden, in turn, moved rapidly to secure his charge.
“Star, we have an intruder in the vents!” Warden bucked through the doors to the prince's suite, clearing the way into the sitting room. His youngest squadmate wasn't far behind, her horn lit and eyes searching the darkened room. Warden wasted no time getting the curtains across the panoramic windows opened, pouring what moonlight there was into the room and revealing the last member of his team, the thestral Night Shift, lounging on the ledge just outside. At a signal from Warden, he leaped from his post and dove to cover the doors below while his commanding officer and Shooting Star swept the remaining rooms of the penthouse for signs of danger. In the last room they checked, little more than a spare bedroom containing a few pricey art pieces bought at auction that evening, Star tested the grate on the vent above with a satisfying telekinetic tug. It didn't so much as squeal in protest.
“That's all the vents, sir. Whoever's here, they haven't made it in.” Warden nodded sagely, relieved that this attack seemed rather poorly planned out.
“What in Equestria is all this racket about, Sergeant?” Oh, great, just what we needed. Warden did his best to put on a professional, emotionless mask to meet the dreary-eyed Prince Blueblood, roused from his sleep in the commotion. Admittedly, the sight of Equestria's least-popular royalty clad in a badly-askew silk bathrobe with his luxurious blonde mane mussed with drool was nothing short of hilarious, but that laugh would have to wait.
“I'm sorry, sir, but there has been an attempted infiltration of your rooms here. I have my guards pursuing the intruder downstairs, and I'm going to join them in the chase. Private Star, get the prince to the hotel's security office and wait for the all-clear from me once you're there. No telling if there are others, so stay alert and move quickly.” A short salute was all he needed before taking off out the still-open doors to find High Security and Night Shift, hopefully with their quarry in tow. The rose-maned unicorn he left behind cleared her throat and repeated the order.
“Alright, your Highness, we need to get down to the security office. The hotel staff have a panic room for us there...” Blueblood cut her off with a raised hoof.
“Private, the supposed intruder has been dealt with, it is the middle of the night, and I intend to return to my bed. Kindly station yourself at the door and wake me in the morning.” Not waiting for a response, the prince turned drunkenly on his heel and staggered back toward the waiting master bedroom. Shooting Star, however, wasn't having any of that.
“My apologies, sire, but my orders are clear. Now get your slippers on or whatever you need, because we're moving!”
“No, Guardsmare, we're not.” Blueblood set her in his gaze and continued in a huff. “You may have been assigned to my entourage, but I am Equestrian royalty! You shall do as I command, and I am commanding you to do whatever you must to protect me right here in this penthouse. Good night, my young mare.” Once again, he turned to go back to bed. His increasingly-irritated protector followed him closely, watching with a dropped jaw as the arrogant dandy laid right back down to sleep in the face of what could be an assassination attempt. As he curled up in the sheets, Star groaned... and then had a moment of inspiration. Her eyes narrowed, a fiendish smile creeping its way across her muzzle.
“Yes, sir. As you wish.” She entered the bedchamber to stand stock-still at attention between the bed and the massive windows' drawn curtains, a dangerous edge in her voice. “Oh, I will do what I must. Right here, in this penthouse.” She lit her horn, the emerald glow snaking its way around the bedframe. “And might I add, sir, that I shall thoroughly enjoy performing my duties exactly as you command.” With that, she hefted the mattress clean off of the box-spring, prince and sheets in tow. Blueblood's sputtering protests and struggles on the floating bed were cut off by the blankets coming alive, carefully and forcefully tucking in the royal pain and not-so-accidentally gagging his muzzle in the process.
Satisfied by her charge's sudden compliance, Shooting Star left the suite prancing just a bit more merrily than was strictly necessary of a royal guard evacuating a VIP from a crime scene. Down the hall, she glanced at the elevators with mock disappointment. “Well, your Highness, I don't believe this mattress will fit in that elevator.” A venomous smirk told the prince exactly how much she was bothered by that discovery. “Seems we'll just have to take the stairs.” Opening the door to the stairwell with a triumphant flair, Star set the bed spinning to work her way down the hotel's twenty-two flights of steps to the ground floor. She couldn't wait to see the looks on her team's faces when she had to explain this.
*/)~*~(*
Back in the vacant penthouse suite, silence and stillness reigned. The hurried evacuation of the room had taken mere moments; not even three minutes had passed since Warden burst into the suite when the door to the stairwell closed behind the detained prince. The rooms themselves appeared untouched, the smashed main doorway and missing mattress aside, and all were lit only with the soft glow of the moon streaming through the windows. The gentle blue light bathed everything in a calming aura, providing just enough illumination for the vacant chambers to not appear haunted in the night.
The illusion of peace was broken by a rope dropping from the open vent outside the splintered door. A single pony slid down the rope, a unicorn mare in a black catsuit with a scattered pattern of white diamonds and a rather extravagant mask across her face. She picked up a bottle of perfume which had been tied to the end of the rope, lightly spritzing herself with the rose scent to remove the hideous odor of the industrial piping she'd been clambering through for the past hour. Placing the bottle back into its place on her belt, the mare strode casually into the suite. I suppose, she thought to herself, toying with the guards may have been a touch reckless... Oh, all's well that ends well. If Warden had turned quickly enough to see the perfume bottle floating behind his head or being tugged up into the vent, her game would have been over then and there. He hadn't caught her, though, and that was all that mattered.
She sauntered into the royal chambers through the wide-open doors, admiring the beautiful craftsponyship that had gone into the room. With a faint blue glow from the pony's horn, the candelabras around the room sparked to life and the curtains were drawn. Warm yellow and orange replaced the cool blue of the moon, changing the entire suite's appearance in an instant. By firelight, the ornate vaulted ceiling was cast in gorgeous shadows and the relatively large space began to feel somewhat smaller and more comfortable. Pausing only a moment to admire the elegant scenery, the masked mare moved on. She had a schedule to keep.
Poking her head into the adjoining spare room, the intruder looked up at the ventilation duct with a slight frown. She had originally intended to enter through here, but the grate had proved too strong to be removed from the inside. The perfume trick had been a stroke of luck, a last-minute improvisation which had worked out brilliantly. She had a solid five minutes alone with the penthouse now before any of the guards returned to investigate. That was more than she actually needed, and far more than she'd hoped for when the original plan failed, so she felt entitled to a little bit of sightseeing.
The paintings and statuary stacked in the room's corners drew her eye, so she lit several more candles in order to examine them properly. A critical eye revealed several masterworks, though most were of middling quality. All would fetch fine prices at any market, however, and the notoriously tasteless prince had likely paid a substantial premium. A grin crossed the mare's face beneath her mask. Given that the auction selling these pieces had been a charity affair, the contents of this room could very well represent the most generous thing Prince Blueblood had ever done. The irony was terribly amusing. All the same, though, these were not the goal tonight, and so the intruder replaced several dust tarps she had moved and continued on to the bedroom.
“Ah, yes, here we are...” A light giggle filled the air. In their rush to reach safety from their 'attacker', the royal entourage had fled without much of the prince's property, never suspecting that their charge had never truly been in any danger. A knife dropped in the vent and her disguise's wig tossed theatrically down the air shaft, and they'd assumed an assassin was at hoof. That pegasus had been so bent on eliminating the 'threat', he'd charged right past her hiding place in the side room's vent shaft without so much as a glance in her direction. The notion of a simple thief likely hadn't even crossed the guards' minds yet.
The masked mare glanced around the room, sizing up her options for the short amount of time she had left. A small strongbox sitting in one corner of the room contained his spending money from the day's auction, likely a rather respectable sum even after paying for his purchases. The closet was stacked with several fine suits, any one of which would cost the average Equestrian citizen months of their earnings. Even the bathroom, on inspection, had been used to store a surprisingly large collection of jewelry and high-end cosmetics. What finally drew her eye, though, was the simple, scuffed block of silver set with gemstones sitting on a small cushion upon the prince's bedside table.
Upon closer inspection, it seemed like an unremarkable trinket. A silver medallion with brass fittings, the small broach bore Blueblood's family crest on the front in a miniature mosaic of crushed precious stones, quite a few of which were actually missing or scratched. What made this particular broach special, however, was the fact that it had been hoof-crafted by Prince Blueblood the First over three hundred years earlier and passed down in his family line for generations. Its age and famous creator made it a valuable museum piece, to be sure, but the personal history of the nobleponies who had worn it made this a priceless and irreplaceable family heirloom of Equestrian royalty. It was the perfect target for the infamous jewel thief known as the Collector.
She smiled, turning the medallion over in her telekinesis. “Simply marvelous. And now, you're mine.” The Collector tucked the Blueblood family crest into the small satchel at her side and replaced it on the nightstand with her calling card: a small quartz crystal, perfectly clear, with the monogram 'C' carved onto the face to mark her passing. She made certain to cinch down the precious pouch's straps and then simply cantered out of the room as every flame within was snuffed out. Just before making her final exit, though, she stopped for a moment. A devious smile crossed her features, and she gave a giggle that could only be described as mischievous. She reentered the darkened suite for a brief moment, then walked back into the hallway. She clambered back up the rope into the ventilation duct and vanished into the hotel's innards. Her job was done here. Silence and stillness reigned once more in her wake.
Author's Note
And so it begins!
Welcome, good people of the Interwebz, to my first published story on this site after three years of lurking in the comment section. It's been a good time, and I'm glad to finally have something to contribute to this creative collective... enterprise... herd of wordhorses... whatever-we-are. Two years have passed since the Power Ponies episode aired, and I've spent much of that planning out origin stories for my own versions of those characters. (That is, procrastinating over an unfinished file from April of last year. 
) This is the first of what I hope will be many more in a series, so long as I can keep up the effort to see it through.
Please let me know what you thought of the intro, and whether any of you'd be interested in prereading for me. I'm in desperate need of a second opinion to give me a hand with the next two chapters (which are nearly ready at present) and all the rest to come.
That said, thanks for reading, hope you enjoy my work, and have a good one!
- Headwind
“I'm home!” Rarity announced her arrival with a shout. A luxurious red fur-trimmed traveling coat and flamboyant broad-brimmed hat floated through the open door, followed by several small suitcases which fell just inside the threshold. A white unicorn mare walked in after them with gentle blue eyes and a purple mane styled to give the hat a run for its money. She gave the coat, a personal favorite, a quick glance to check for any dirt and then hung it on a nearby coat rack before turning back and calling into the house again.
“Teaspoon, are you here?” She'd been away for several days on a trip to Manehattan, taking in the sights and trying to attract new business for her job as a fashion designer. Just the night before, she'd attended the after-party for a charity auction which had been a resounding success for her, elite new clientele more than making up for the tiring journey. All the same, the trip had been exhausting, so she felt she could use some help with her bags.
“Of course, madam.” An elderly brown-coated unicorn in a flawless black vest stepped out of the kitchen, most likely taking a momentary break from preparing food. Rarity embraced him tightly. His face spoke of warmth and wisdom, his pocket-watch cutie mark of punctuality and precision. Teaspoon had been her family's valet for a very long time, as long as Rarity could recall, and took great pride in every aspect of his work. “I was expecting you for breakfast, Miss Rarity. Lunch is now several hours past. Was there some delay in the rails on your way?” Rarity and Teaspoon each picked up a couple of the bags now littering the house's foyer and began levitating them up the staircase to Rarity's bedroom.
“Oh, no, nothing like that. I just stopped in Vanhoover for the night. I was out a lot later than I expected to be, and I always miss my stop if I try to sleep on the train. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“No worries at all, milady. I took your tardiness to mean that last night had been profitable, and therefore well worth the time. Anywhere with these, ma'am?” At Rarity's nod, Teaspoon dropped her luggage at the foot of her large, canopied bed and turned to the door. “I'll set you a place at the table, dear. I'm sure you're famished, and I've prepared a lovely meal for your return.” He thoughtfully stroked his white beard as he walked. “I'm also curious to see what you think of today's headlines. I brought the paper in some time ago, and the front page was nothing short of scandalous!”
“Well, hearing that, I'll just have to have a look. As for last night, it couldn't have gone better!” Rarity followed Teaspoon down the stairs again, turning into the kitchen as he headed back up with the last of the luggage. “Five new dress orders for the royal garden party next month, and one of those straight from Upper Crust herself! I tell you, I'm going places, Teaspoon. Oh, and the ballroom was simply to die for...” Rarity sat down, a spread in front of her that included a meticulously-crafted salad and a bowl of fresh croissant rolls complemented by a full pitcher of iced tea. The morning's newspaper was laid across her plate, prompting her to unfurl it out of curiosity. The image on the front page stopped her heart cold for a moment.
“Ah yes, the ballroom. I'm sure. And tell me, madam, how were the accommodations in the prince's penthouse, hmm?” 'THE COLLECTOR STRIKES AGAIN!' was the headline blaring from the top of the page, accompanied by a large picture of Prince Blueblood himself trying to get his hoof between himself and the camera-pony. The massive pompadour atop his head had been colored a shade of pink that very nearly glowed, and the panicked expression on the pampered royal's face made it plain that this was no fashion statement. A second, smaller image of a jeweled broach now reported stolen sat below that. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you were dissatisfied with your stay, Madam Collector.” Teaspoon's eyes were leveled at his employer, as warm as ever but firmly demanding an explanation. Rarity stared at him for a moment, then calmly set the paper aside and took up the salad tongs.
“I guess you want me to apologize, hmm? Well, the prince needed a lesson in manners, and I won't say I'm sorry for that!” Rarity paused a moment after serving herself a helping of the salad, then continued, “Also, the penthouse really was lovely. Wonderful scrollwork in the paneling, absolutely beautiful in the right light.”
“Miss Rarity, you know full well that the penthouse's aesthetic value is very much the last thing on my mind just now! You and I had an arrangement regarding these... excursions of yours, and you have broken it. 'Do no harm', I said, 'and I shall leave you to it'. What am I to do now that you've decided to go about penalizing every arrogant noblepony in Equestria?!” Teaspoon held aloft a small satchel in his dull yellow magical aura, no doubt having retrieved it while upstairs a moment before. The silver medallion Rarity had stolen the night before floated from the open flap, glittering a bit in the light. “Your prize, I take it?”
“Yes. That is the Blueblood family crest, a valuable and gorgeous addition to my collection. And what you are to do, Teaspoon, is nothing.” Rarity took a drink of her tea and replaced the cup on its saucer, hardly breaking her speech for a moment. “The prince made a fool of me at the Grand Galloping Gala a few months ago, and I'll admit that what I did to his shampoo was... spiteful. But, I am still quite in control of myself, and I don't appreciate wild accusations!” Rarity stood up from the table, snatched the crest away, and walked back upstairs with it. Teaspoon followed her closely, donning a sarcastic grin as he went.
“Oh, my apologies, ma'am. You seek merely to balance the scales against nobleponies who have insulted you personally. And here I was thinking that this incident smacked of social justice, silly me! Petty vengeance is quite a lot more mature, wouldn't you say?” The teasing tone of his voice irked his employer, but she'd honestly expected worse and the mane dye prank was seeming less and less appropriate the further their conversation went. Rarity squared her shoulders and sighed.
“I've admitted you were right, Teaspoon, and I promise you I won't do it again. Isn't that enough?”
“Rarity, to speak frankly as your friend for a moment, no. It is not enough. This may sound self-serving, but when I caught you returning from an evening at the royal orchestra with the conductor's cufflinks in hoof, I chose to speak with you and listen without judgment. My reasons for not turning you in then I'll keep to myself, but now I am complicit in this hobby of yours and you are taking things entirely too far! All of this thrillseeking is foolish, Miss Rarity, and it will get the better of you... and anypony close to you.” Rarity turned to him angrily, ice in her eyes. Teaspoon stood in the doorway, steady and unfazed.
“Well, while we're being frank with each other, Teaspoon, it isn't any of your business to tell me what to do! If I want to have a little fun on the job, I will!” Rarity levitated over a duffel bag from the pile currently on her bed, examining her sneaking suit for wear and tear before setting the bag back down with the others. As an afterthought, she plucked her domino mask from the bag and slipped it on. “As for getting caught, there is a reason I wear this. I'll be the one going to prison, and I alone. Nopony has to know you're helping me, you know.” She turned and started back down the stairs.
“Thank you for your consideration, madam, but I fear you don't give the Royal Guard's investigators due credit.” At this, Rarity snorted.
“Teaspoon, darling, I had to dangle a perfume bottle under a guardspony's nose last night to be noticed in the prince's own suite. 'Celestia's finest' could use some work.” That one at least got a chuckle out of the old valet as the two sat down at the kitchen table once again. “I promise, nothing will happen to you. I'm the infamous 'Collector', after all. No need to drag you into...” Rarity was cut off by a resounding thud from the foyer, the telltale sign of her younger sister's return from school. Sure enough, a small, white-coated filly with a wildly-curled pink and purple mane atop her head slowly entered the kitchen, dropping a pair of saddlebags laden with books by the door as she approached the table.
“Teaspoon, I'm home.” Sweetie Belle's voice was a bored drone which spoke of a long day at school. “Hey, what's for... Rarity!” Instantly, a bright and cheery ball of fuzzy youth was in Rarity's seat, hugging her older sister for all she was worth. “Where were you? We waited for you this morning, but you missed the train you said you were gonna be on. I wanted to stick around, but Teaspoon said I had to go to school and, well, I just got back... anyway, it's good that you're home!”
“Nice to... see you, too... Sweetie Belle...” Rarity choked out. She never failed to be amazed by her little sister's strength, especially when she was excited. She finally managed to extricate herself from the hug long enough to catch her breath and Sweetie bounced over to take her own seat at the table. “I left Manehattan a little late last night, so I stopped to get some rest and had to take a later train. A lady must have her beauty sleep, after all!”
Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes, then gave her a funny look. “So Rarity, if you got your beauty sleep, why are you still wearing a mask?” Rarity had to suppress the urge to look horrified as she realized she was indeed still wearing her burglar's mask at the kitchen table. She covered for her momentary panic by taking another bite of her lunch before replying calmly.
“Oh, this? Didn't I mention the party last night was a masquerade ball? I can't tell you the places this old mask of mine has taken me...” Rarity removed the mask, nonchalantly tucking it out of sight. And with any luck, out of mind. “Come to think of it, that reminds me: I have five new orders to work on! I simply must go down to the boutique and get started.” Hurriedly excusing herself, Rarity made her way back up the stairs in a rush. In a flash, the mask was back in her duffel and the bag flung over her shoulder, the smaller satchel with the stolen crest inside subtly tucked underneath. Rarity just barely had the time to mentally note that she also needed a new wig for her Collector persona, with the old one currently residing at the bottom of an air duct. Perhaps blue this time, black was getting a bit dull... Steps on the stairs stopped her thinking any further about that for the moment.
“Aw, but I wanted to hear about Manehattan.” Sweetie Belle poked her head in the door to Rarity's bedroom. Her sister thought for a moment, then nodded.
“If you want to hear about the party, I suppose you could tag along. I'll need to make one quick stop at my house along the way, and just remember the rules while we're in the shop.”
“Oh, right: Sweetie Belle, don't touch anything!” Sweetie's voice dropped into a sickly-sweet mimic of her older sister, her hooves flying into a dramatic pose as she spoke. “Everything is in its place, and I simply must keep some semblance of order. No fiddling with the sewing machine, and whatever you do, don't bother the customers. Celestia forbid I should have to introduce you. Why, it would cut into my precious rambling time!” Sweetie uttered the mother of all over-the-top gasps. “IDEA!” After that, she collapsed into hysterics. Rarity merely watched her antics unamused.
“I don't sound anything like that.” She said indignantly. A guilty grin ghosted across her features. “Except perhaps when I get excited... oh, never mind. Get your things, bring a coloring book or something, and come along.” Rarity picked a few things out of her bedroom herself, packed them into a pair of saddlebags draped over the foot of her bed, and headed for the door. Downstairs, Teaspoon was waiting for her with his own goofy smile.
“So, Miss Rarity... how do 'Celestia's finest' compare with the deductive skills and powers of observation of a twelve-year-old filly?” Color worked its way into Rarity's cheeks as she tried to move past her oversight in the kitchen. She hissed out a response, trying to keep her voice down.
“This. Proves. Nothing.” She cleared her throat, then said more clearly, “I'll be back soon, darling. Thank you for the meal, it was excellent as always... Sweetie Belle, are you coming?”
“Yeah, I'm ready.” She was already standing behind Rarity, her school bags filled to bursting with various art supplies and a few magazines. She gave no indication that she'd even been back up the stairs to her room, making Rarity wonder what exactly she'd had in the bags to begin with, but nevertheless she opened the door and started walking. Sweetie Belle followed, excited to hear about her sister's trip and always happy to get a chance to see her at work. Teaspoon closed the door behind them, sighed deeply, and went into the kitchen to start cleaning up before dinner.
I am never certain about those two. One minute, they could be happily joking and sharing stories to their hearts' delight, and the next they'd be at each other's throats over some trivial matter or another. Sweetie Belle adored her sister, and Rarity was fiercely proud of her in turn, but it was always nerve-wracking when they were together without him or their parents to keep an eye out. Particularly, Teaspoon mused, with this Collector business becoming more and more dangerous. He shrugged, setting the salad back in the cooler. No point in worrying about things he couldn't change, after all. What happens, happens. My job is simply to make certain that I am here to help when it does.
*/)~*~(*
After quietly slipping her stolen goods into her own modest home, Rarity led Sweetie Belle down the road towards the market district of the Crystal Empire. Their family had called this remote northern metropolis home since before either of the sisters had been born, and when Rarity had begun searching for a shop to call her own she hadn't even considered looking elsewhere. Canterlot was the center of high society in Equestria, and Manehattan was unrivaled in industry and public exposure, but the relatively quiet crystal city had one great advantage that no other city in the world could match: this was the home of Equestria's largest and most lucrative jewel mines.
Legend held that the Crystal Empire had been founded by a mad king who enslaved a small army of earth ponies to mine the plentiful gems from the rock in this frigid region. The ponies eventually worked so hard in the mines that they became living crystals themselves, and then they used the very gems they dug up to create a weapon which defeated the mad king: the Crystal Heart, cornerstone of the Empire right through to the modern day. Nopony was sure how much of that tale was true, but the local crystal ponies certainly took pride in it and were undeniably peerless miners. The wealth brought in by their hard work and determination had rapidly grown the city into a powerful trade center, and the longtime presence of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza as the Crystal Heart's guardian had made it a political force as well. With the Heart's magic keeping the arctic cold to a manageable level for anypony not entirely made of crystal, tourism became yet another feather in the city's cap over the years.
The first thing that anyone stepping off the train from the south would notice was the Crystal Palace. Towering above every other structure in the sprawling city, it was a collection of spires and vaulted arches which gleamed brilliantly in daylight because every inch of the building was made of a unique form of enchanted quartz. Hard as steel yet gleaming like glass, the locals had been using the crystal for construction since time immemorial, and its production was a closely-guarded trade secret. Rarity's shop, the Carousel Boutique, was one among many small businesses in this area of town that shone with a similar glow in the late-afternoon light as she and her sister approached. Sweetie Belle had been telling her sister about her week at school, and Rarity hadn't gotten a word in edgewise for most of the trip.
“So, they're up on the roof, right? Windy's dragging along this huge cloud, and Miss Cloudjumper's trying to show her how to get it to rain. The rest of us are on the ground, and I'm helping Junebug set up a few potted plants to try and catch the water. Then, Windy just jumps into the air and bucks the cloud! There was this big flash, one of the plants exploded, and my mane caught on fire! That was all pretty cool, once I put my mane out at least, but then something even cooler happened. Guess what?” Sweetie Belle turned to Rarity with a grin a mile wide.
“What's that, Sweetie?”
“Windchaser got her cutie mark! For making lightning! How amazing is that, huh? I'm even invited to her cuteceanera in a few days.” Rarity chuckled to herself. Sweetie had been getting increasingly excited every time one of her classmates had earned their cutie mark, anticipation growing about what her own would turn out to be. Teaspoon, Rarity and her parents had been quietly making bets for months that they'd had it figured out, but (much to Sweetie's disappointment) nopony had yet taken the pot.
“That really is exciting, isn't it? Any ideas for a gift yet? I could help make a nice little hat or a scarf for her if you'd like.” Rarity hadn't ever met little Windchaser, but she had a number of half-finished old projects and concept scraps lying around that could almost certainly be fixed up into something worthy of the occasion. The front room of her shop projected perfect professionalism, and the upstairs supply room was always kept in flawless order, but anypony who entered the 'Inspiration Room' where Rarity did the bulk of her actual work would be hard-pressed to tell whether the space actually had a floor.
“Thanks, but I was actually thinking about getting her some goggles or a headband or something. She's all crazy about wanting to fly now, y'know?” Sweetie giggled. She hadn't mentioned that Windy had leaped clear off the roof in excitement after realizing what had happened, fortunately landing on one of the surviving potted plants. Rarity thought for a moment.
“A headband is simple enough: bit of elastic and cotton, stylish, not easy to lose or damage... but goggles do have a certain practicality to them... I've never worked with glass, could I make the lenses out of crystal? Hmm...” Rarity walked as she talked to herself, unconsciously going through the motions of unlocking her boutique. The shop was honestly a bit odd to look at: a two-story circular crystalline building with several simplistic pony sculptures posed as though running around the second floor. It had originally been a toy store, the elderly owner a friend of the family, and Rarity had been floored when he offered her the shop as her own when he retired just a few years earlier. She hadn't had the heart to change a thing about the facade, and so had just named it the Carousel Boutique and rolled with the somewhat unusual theme for a tailor.
Once inside, Rarity continued her monologue. “Regular quartz is a bit uneven, not clear enough to see through... diamond, perhaps? No, that's silly, where would I get a diamond that size on short notice? A ruby perhaps, but...” Rarity gasped loudly, and Sweetie Belle braced herself for the inevitable high-pitched declaration that followed, “... I-DEEE-A! Flight goggles and sunglasses in one!” Rarity squealed, her excitement apparent. She rummaged through a trunk just behind her front counter, producing a very large and somewhat dusty ruby that she held up to her eye. “Sweetie Belle, what do you think? Would red suit your friend, or should I look for a sapphire in here?”
“I think that'll work just fine, Rarity.” Sweetie had to suppress an amused sigh as her increasingly-distracted sister ducked into the back and got to work measuring a wafer-thin slice from the large red stone. Once she was in the zone, there was no stopping a Rarity on a mission, and the creative force that was her big sister had now been unleashed. Sweetie started lazily pawing through a pile of spare cloth patches, giving Rarity time to snap out of it.
On the other side of the room, Rarity was a craftsmare in heaven. Sure, there were several large orders she'd picked up in Manehattan to get to, but those could wait. Even the closest deadline was over a month off, she had time to kill, and this goggle project couldn't possibly take more than a few hours. On top of that, it finally gave her a reason to use that oversized ruby she'd been keeping around. The rock was too large to use for any single item but a very large broach or headdress, and nopony had come around interested in such a flashy display in ages. Its unusual size, however, would do quite nicely for a set of red-tinted flight goggles. Now then, what of the band? Rarity turned to Sweetie Belle to ask about her classmate's coat color, only to realize that Sweetie had already been talking.
“I'm sorry, Sweetie Belle, I got a bit carried away there. What were you saying?”
“I said, do you want to go with me to the school fair next week? Principal Hard Knocks is throwing a big party to raise money for the school, and there's supposed to be this big family game contest going on, with prizes and everything! I already told the others you'd be there, so will you please go with me?” The little filly's eyes could not get any larger as she pleaded with Rarity.
“Well, what day is it exactly?”
“Wednesday, after school. Does that mean you'll do it?!” Rarity sighed.
“I'm afraid I can't make it then, Sweetie. I'm attending an art show in Vanhoover, and I'll need to leave early Wednesday to make it there.” She allowed herself a subtle smirk. After all, that will be my only chance at that marvelous jade statuette of old King Spykoran. As good as I am, I'm not quite foolish enough to try to break into a bank vault. Rarity had been planning this heist for months, and it would likely be her last major score for quite some time after all the unexpected heat raised by the Blueblood theft. Just one more for the collection.
Sweetie Belle pouted. “But Rarity, I already told everypony you'd be there! I can't do the contest alone, come on!” Rarity floated a saw, hammer and chisel over to her work table, the ruby now locked in a vise with markings showing her where to carve out the two flat panels that would become beautiful red lenses.
She gave Sweetie a sharp look as she worked. “I've given you my answer, Sweetie Belle, and that was final. You really shouldn't have told your friends I would be there before asking me, you know.” Thinking for a moment, she realized something. “Hmm. Mother and father are going to be out of town that day as well, aren't they?”
The girls' parents, Magnum and Cookie Crumbles, were both frequent travelers as a sports reporter and a caterer, and often found themselves away from home at the same time. That was the reason they'd hired Teaspoon to begin with: to have him be able to look after their home and children when neither parent could be there, and to his credit he had always served admirably. They brought the kids with them when they could, and they'd both gotten to see a lot of neat places for being so young, but inconvenient times like this did come up with Sweetie Belle still in school.
Rarity considered the problem, slowly tapping away at the gemstone while she mulled it over, then asked, “Would it be possible for Teaspoon to attend the fair with you? I know he's hardly the 'contest' sort, but...”
“No, it has to be family! I already tried that. Can't you please just skip the art thing this one time? You just got back from one, why do you need to do it again?” Sweetie's voice was starting to move up from the 'asking' range into 'begging' mode, and she was up on the tips of her hooves by the end of the sentence. Clearly, she wanted this badly.
Rarity rolled her eyes and fell back on her old excuse for times like this. “Sweetie, a mare in my line of work simply must socialize to get her name out there, to get ponies talking! The ponies you meet at events like this art show are the lifeblood of my art. If there's an opportunity to draw some high-society attention, I need to take it or risk losing valuable new connections.” Sweetie Belle, however, simply cocked her head in confusion.
“But, we live in the Crystal Empire, sis. I go to school with half a dozen ambassador's kids and the mayor's daughter. Windchaser's dad is in charge of the whole northern weather team. Princess Cadence is going to be there for the fair!” A particularly loud strike from the hammer told her she got Rarity's attention with that one. A smug tone joined her begging one as she tempted her sister. “Wouldn't you just love to grab the attention of a princess, Rarity? Hmm?” Rarity cleared her throat and turned back to chipping away at the ruby, nearly done with one side of the cutting.
She swallowed her momentary excitement and sighed. “Of course I would, Sweetie. However, be that as it may, I am already committed to appear in Vanhoover next week. I've given my word, and I can't go back on it now.” She turned her attention back to Sweetie Belle. “I'm sorry, Sweetie Belle, but I simply can't skip this one.”
Rarity turned back to her work, hoping that would be the end of the discussion. A shot at catching Cadence's eye would be a great boon for her business, without question, but the chance at the priceless sculpture on display would never be presented to her again. The Collector had her own reputation to build, after all. She struck the ruby one more time, freeing a rough oval-shaped panel from the heart of the stone and punctuating her point with the final blow.
Sweetie Belle, however, was undeterred. “Why don't you ever have time for me? It's always 'oh, I'll be out of town', or 'I simply must finish this order tonight, even if it is for next month', or 'Sweetie Belle, a lady must have her beauty rest!'” She kicked over the stack of swatches she'd been playing with in frustration. “Hay, if you even spent as much time with me as you spend napping, Teaspoon would be out of a job! Do you even sleep at night?!”
That was the final straw. Rarity spun on her heels to look her sister in the eye. “Sweetie Belle, how I spend my nights is none of your business! I told you why I can't go, but after all this whining and bothering me about it, I wouldn't go with you even if I had the time!” She set her tools down behind her a bit more roughly than she intended, and was met with the sound of shattered crystal. A check of her table confirmed that the small ruby sheet she'd just made had broken, now nothing more than a few hopeless shards which would be useless to her. A growl escaped Rarity's lips. “Oh, now look what you've made me do! I'll have to hope there's enough material in this ruby to make another lens, otherwise these goggles will never see the light of day...” A sniffle behind her caught her attention just a moment too late.
Sweetie, on the verge of tears, looked her sister in the eye and mumbled out, “Fine, go ahead. You care more about those stupid goggles than you do about your own sister anywa-ay-ay!” All-out bawling by the time she was done, Sweetie turned and bolted out the door, her sobs all but drowning out Rarity's calls as she ran for home.
*/)~*~(*
Back at the house, Teaspoon was doing some dusting in the dining room when he heard the front door open once again. His greeting died in his throat, however, when the door slammed shut and the sound of crying could be heard from the foyer. He set down his feather duster and walked quickly to the door, his worries confirmed when he saw little Sweetie Belle running up the stairs with her eyes red and running with tears. She ignored him entirely, not stopping until she'd gotten to her bedroom and locked the door behind her.
The sisters' longtime servant sighed deeply, his brow furrowed out of frustration. This wasn't the first time he'd had to run damage control on a fight, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but it never got any easier. Teaspoon always found himself confounded by the reasoning behind these arguments; they usually seemed to come back to some small disagreement that had snowballed far out of proportion simply because neither sibling would give an inch. Teaspoon shrugged his shoulders, walked calmly to the kitchen, set a kettle of water out to boil, and then made his way up the stairs to confront the most dangerous thing he was likely to experience working for this family: an upset filly.
An ear pressed to the door heard muffled sobs coming from within. Teaspoon made sure his vest was in order, then gave two sharp knocks at the door. “Miss Belle? Are you all right?” Certainly not, but that should at least get her to answer. A moment later, she did.
“No, -sniff- I'm not.” When nothing further came from behind the locked door, Teaspoon chuckled to himself. Ah, so it is to be a guessing game, then? Very well. I can be a sporting pony.
“Did something happen at the boutique between you and Miss Rarity, eh?”
“Ye-yeah.” Sniffling broke up her speech, making it harder still to make out the problem. Luckily, Teaspoon was rather good at this game. Now, to prepare the hook.
“Would you like to talk about it, Miss Belle? I have a pot boiling downstairs, and I daresay you sound like you could use a bit of hot chocolate.” A rustling sound came from inside, followed closely by a thump and a somewhat slow set of hoofsteps. The lock clicked, and the door opened just enough to let Sweetie Belle poke her head out.
“Is Rarity ba-back yet?” Taking the bait...
“No, she's still out. It's only me here for the moment.” Reeling her in, easy now...
“Well, then... h-hot cocoa does sound go-ood.” And there's the catch. The aged valet smiled warmly. Heh heh heh. Were I a few... well, more than a few years younger, I might make a fine fisherpony.
“Very well, then. Lead the way.” Sweetie took the lead, Teaspoon following her downstairs until both were in the kitchen, the filly slumped in her seat at the table and the old stallion standing at the counter mixing generous helpings of cocoa powder into two cups of hot water. When he was finished, he set one mug in front of Sweetie Belle and then sat down across the table with his own. He took a cautious sip, allowing a bit of the sweet drink to soak his mustache in hopes of breaking the tension. A goofy grin directed across the table was answered with a short and half-hearted laugh, then Sweetie took a drink of her own before starting to talk.
“So, I guess you want to know what happened?” At a nod from Teaspoon, she continued. “Well, I told Rarity about the school fair next week and asked if she'd go with me. She told me she was already going to an art show or something, and she wouldn't skip it just this one time...”
Teaspoon nodded sagely from behind his floating mug. “And I suppose you proceeded to pester her in hopes of changing her mind, eh?” At Sweetie's guilty silence, he continued. “Miss Belle, you know quite well that your sister is a grown mare with plans and responsibilities of her own...”
“But Teaspoon, she never wants to do anything with me! At least when Mom and Dad are here, we do stuff together. Rarity's here all the time, but she just tells me to stay out of trouble and goes off to work or sleep.” Sweetie's voice was rising in volume as she spoke, anger evident in her tone. “She even said that she wouldn't go with me even if she had time! It's like she doesn't want to be my sister...” At that, Teaspoon cut her off.
“Now that's rubbish, and you know it. Rarity may be a bit... devoted to her work, but she couldn't be more proud of you. Busy though she is, I'm sure she can make time for one family event.” Teaspoon upturned his mug, downing the last of his steaming-hot drink. “You have my word, Miss Belle, I shall speak with her and see what can be arranged. But you, in turn, must promise me something.” Sweetie looked up, her eyes eager. “Do try not to hold this against your sister if her plans cannot be changed.”
Sweetie's face fell once more, her voice melancholy as she mumbled, “Yeah, because I'm sure she'll change her mind. Good luck.” She hopped down from the table and headed for the stairs. “Thanks anyway, Teaspoon. I'll be up here doing homework before bed.” Her door closed, and that was the end of the conversation.
Teaspoon sighed loudly, then collected Sweetie's half-drunk cocoa mug and went to clean it. He had a sneaking suspicion about why exactly Rarity had been so adamant about attending this new art show so soon after the last one, but that would need to wait until Rarity returned from her boutique. Until then, there were dishes to be cleaned and the dining room still to be dusted. Teaspoon chuckled. His weekend drinking buddies often teased him about his job playing butler to a dysfunctional family of bakers and dressmakers, but it was times like today that always reminded him of his career's single greatest perk: he'd never be bored.
*/)~*~(*
Some time later, Teaspoon had finished his work for the day and was just sitting down sipping at a cup of warm tea when Rarity returned home. She walked inside, set her bags down near the coat rack, and turned around to gasp in surprise at seeing the waiting valet.
“Oh, hello! Sorry, Teaspoon dear, I didn't see you there.” When he didn't reply, Rarity continued, “Is something the matter? Your shift was over nearly an hour ago, did something keep you?”
“Oh, you know the rule, Miss Rarity: at least one of us must be here to keep an eye on Miss Belle. I was simply here waiting for you.” The serious edge to his voice told Rarity that he had indeed been waiting for her to arrive. Waiting patiently.
“Ah. I see.” Rarity sat down, waiting for Teaspoon to make his point known.
“One thing did come up, actually, which slowed my departure a touch: your sister returned from the boutique in tears some time ago. I fixed her a little something to cheer her up, and she told me what occurred between the two of you when she brought up next week's school fair.”
Rarity rose to answer the unasked question. “I gave Sweetie Belle my answer, Teaspoon. I'm not going to change my plans just because she didn't like that.”
“Nor am I asking you to, Ma'am. That was entirely your decision to make, and it was on short notice, after all.” Smiling wryly, he added, “Besides which, I know you too well to bother. I merely had something else to ask on the matter.” At Rarity's nod, Teaspoon sat up straight and asked, “This art gallery you're attending: what is your mark there?” Rarity blinked in confusion.
“Come again?”
“Your mark. Your target. To be perfectly blunt, madam, what is it that you intend to steal whilst in Vanhoover?”
Rarity still seemed stymied by this, but eventually answered, “Erm, well, if you must know, there is a jade statue of the old dragon king, the only one of its kind. He doesn't take kindly to artists, considers them a waste of his time, so the sculpture's mere existence is nothing short of miraculous...” Her eyes narrowed inquisitively. “Why the sudden curiosity, darling? You've always told me to keep my thievery to myself, so why ask me about it now?”
Teaspoon's reply was terse and direct. “Because I wanted to know why you would be so aggressively set on attending a second art gallery in the span of a week. You've never done so before, and young Miss Belle was equally curious as she ran home crying. An art piece you can describe as 'miraculous' will need to be reason enough, I suppose.” In a whirlwind of motion, Teaspoon donned his cap and a long wool coat, then opened the door to face the chilly evening air of the Crystal Empire. “Have a good evening, Madam. Breakfast is at seven, as usual.”
He closed the door behind him, not bothering to wait for Rarity's answer. 'Harm no one', I said. It seems that line has been crossed twice today. Teaspoon squared his shoulders and marched on, chewing the situation over and coming to a simple conclusion. I must put a stop to all this. Tomorrow... yes. He sighed, resigned to his newly-decided fate. Tomorrow will be a very long day.
Author's Note
Two years after the last chapter... Here we go at last with some familiar faces, though in a not-so-familiar setting. That alternate universe tag isn't just for show, after all. On a different note, I'd like to apologize to anyone out there who actually knows anything about cutting gemstones, I'm sure I gave that poor ruby an undeserved butchering.
I'd also like to give a quick shoutout to 'The Elements of Harmony and the Savior of Worlds', a great story on this site that I put a small reference to in this chapter. It's well worth a read!
If anyone out there would like to preread for me, please send me a message. I could really use a second set of eyes going forward with all this, so don't be shy! Other than that, hope you enjoyed it, and see you on the next one.
Alternate Chapter Titles:
- The Exploding Plant Anecdote
- Rocks of Unusual Size
- The Butler Didn't Do It
