What A Mare Wants

by JKinsley

Rating: teen
Tags: Fancypants, Rarity, Fleur de Lis, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Second Person, Romance
Length: 1556

You are Fleur-de-Lis, a retired model. When Rarity is invited to a fashion show, what do you do?

You are Fleur-de-Lis, a retired model who still hangs in her upper-class social circle. When Fancy Pants decides to host a large fashion show, you take the opportunity to invite Rarity. When she finally arrives in Canterlot, what do you have in store for her?

Author's note: This is my experiment into second-person fiction. It's a bit of a departure from my usual writing, but I hope you enjoy it. Many thanks to TheGentlemanCreeper for the inspiration of turning this concept to second-person, and to Coffeebean for the support.

Published 2012-04-30 06:44:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-04-30 06:44:01 UTC

Part One

It’s early morning, and you sat at the end of your bed, pondering the rest of your day. Best get cleaned up first, you thought. You hopped in the shower and cleaned yourself off, careful to make sure your long, pink-and-white mane and tail were conditioned properly. When you rinsed off and stepped out of the shower, you walked over to the mirror and picked up a brush for your mane and tail. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Aside from your figure, which was perhaps next to that of only the princesses themselves, your mane was your best feature. You took the brush and straightened it out, ending in a little bouncy curl. You did the same for your tail, and satisfied that your hair was styled to its usual glory, you cast a spell to set it and dry off.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, you were greeted by Butler, a grey-coated Earth pony with a lighter grey mane. He served as the butler for the penthouse you share with Fancy Pants. A light cough was accompanied by a stiff Percheron accent.

“Mademoiselle, if you recall, you have a meeting with Monsieur Fancy Pants in about thirty minutes. Shall I call a carriage?”

You nod slightly before asking, “Yes, that will be fine. Is there anything I should bring?”

“No, he said he just wanted your feedback on options for his latest show, especially the guest list, and that was all. I shall make the arrangements immediately.” He bowed and turned to leave, leaving you alone in the vast space of the apartment. You glanced around, marvelling at how far you’ve come from your early days. It was exquisitely furnished with pieces from all around Equestria, but with your eye for style and his eye for finding only the best, it all seemed to match and blend together.

Without anything keeping you here, you decide to head down to the lobby and await the carriage. It doesn’t take long for it to arrive, and you’re whisked away to Canterlot’s expansive downtown.

You wander into Fancy Pants’ studio-slash-office, overlooking one of Canterlot’s many wide and busy boulevards in the Fashion District. For any other pony, it would be an honor to be at Fancy Pants’ side so often. To you, however, it was just good business. That, and he still owes you one.

In your early careers, when you were just getting noticed in the modeling circuit, a young fashion critic approached you. You had seen him at a few events, heard tell of his talent and eye for what’s hot and what’s not, but never met the colt. He introduced himself as Fancy Pants, and offered a small proposal: help him get in with the designers and models and writers of the fashion world, and he would help propel your career to new heights.

You had thought long and hard about the offer of the stranger. On the one hoof, you were already making decent progress. A few designers had hired you, and you had been in some good shows and done a few jobs for magazines and advertisements. Why take a chance? On the other hoof, here was a pony who wasn’t asking for much at all. There really wasn’t much risk in helping the fellow, after all; and if he burned you, it wouldn’t be that hard to undermine his new connections.

Ultimately, you decided to take him up on the offer, and it worked out wonderfully for both of you. Your career took off quickly, and you managed to retire a year ago. He became one of Canterlot’s most respected critics, not only of fashion, but of the high life in general. And because of your assistance, he agreed to “keep you on retainer” as he put it, so that you would be paid well just for sticking around.

“Fleur, are you listening?” he said, in that rather charming accent.

You shook your head, drawn out of your memories. “Sorry, I drifted off for a minute. You were saying?”

Fancy Pants adjusted his glasses and looked back over a long piece of parchment, scribbled with names and dates and details. “Yes, I wanted to discuss possible invitations. Now, I have the Prim and Proper brothers on the list, Jet Set is sure to pop in, as is his wife, Upper Crust, Hoity-Toity already made his arrangements to be there, Top Hat will of course be joining us, Photo Finish and her posse will be there, but who else do we know that should come?”

You tilt your head, thinking. “Not Cufflink? Or did that whole ‘faux-rust’ thing, uh, keep him occupied?”

Fancy Pants just nodded. “He’s still trying to clean up that mess, I’m afraid. Who else do we know? I mean, that covers most of Canterlot who isn’t otherwise engaged.”

An idea strikes you. “Just Canterlot? Why limit ourselves? Who was that clever grey unicorn with the lively friends? R-something? R... Rare... Ah, Rarity, I think it was. ”

“Ah, miss Rarity. You know, I think she would like the trip. It would definitely give her a chance to spread her name around some more. Not that she might need it, mind you, having designed a wedding dress for a Princess!” Fancy chuckled to himself, and you joined him in the light laughter.

Realizing that Rarity would need an invitation to the show, as well as the details, you decide to call for Pencil Pusher. “Mr. Pusher, could you come in here for a moment?” you call. Pencil Pusher was Fancy Pants’ administrative assistant. For all that Fancy Pants does as a critic, most of Pencil Pusher’s duties amounted to writing letters and scheduling meetings and interviews.

A bright pink unicorn trotted in to the room, bearing a steno pad and an inked quill. Clearly, he knew why he was called. In a tone that was all-business, he asked you, “Yes, Miss Fleur? You called?”

Fancy Pants spoke up before you could, and said, “Yes, I need you send an invitation to Rarity of Ponyville, at her Carousel Boutique. It’s concerning the show we’re doing in a few weeks, so you should have all of those details already. That is all.”

Pencil Pusher just scribbled down a few notes, nodded, and bowed out of the room, leaving you with Fancy Pants.

“So, Rarity, eh?” you ask. “I liked her. She might have been a little eager to make herself look important for everyone, but her heart’s in the right place.” Remembering her physique, you can’t help but giggle and give a coy smile. “As is everything else. I wouldn’t mind seeing her strut her stuff on the runway.”

“I don’t think it will come to that. She’s a designer, not a model. Though, I will admit, she does have impeccable taste. I wonder if she’s ever considered doing a line of evening wear for stallions,” he pondered aloud. You knew, of course, that he was sincere about complimenting her taste; he might enjoy her company as a pony of the Canterlot elite and another way to spread his considerable influence as a critic, but the poor stallion wouldn’t be interested in her as a mare.

No, Fancy Pants was far more interested in pursuing the other colts of high fashion. He had a fling with Hoity-Toity that actually ended well for a change. He also had a few other short flings here and there, including one with a massage therapist with some horrendous fake accent. Odd then, that so many thought the two of you were together. It’s true that you enjoyed hanging on him, but it was more that you were friendly and flirty with everyone than any sort of attraction.

You were certainly looking forward to seeing Rarity again, though. Most of the “high society” mares were dull ponies who droned on about the most boring topics. Rarity, on the other hoof, was fascinating. She actually knew her craft well and still had the passion needed to make it in this business.

That, and there was just something alluring about her. The way her violet mane fell in those large curls, and bounced with her. The way her light grey coat reflected the light, or the way her cutie mark brought so much attention to her lovely, toned flanks. You sighed wistfully, and couldn’t help but smile.

“Fleur? Where is your head at today?” Fancy Pants said, with just a hint of irritability in his voice. “We need to finish these plans for the show! I can’t put it on without knowing what order we’ll be doing the saddles.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Sorry, I’m just feeling a bit spacey, that’s all. I don’t think I slept well. Something just kept going ‘bump’ in the night,” you teased. You knew full well that Fancy had a “special” guest over late last night, and he was rather vocal about Fancy’s considerable... skill. You could just spot the red dots of Fancy Pants blushing, and you tried to suppress a chuckle. You were definitely the only pony in all of Equestria who gets away with that.

Sighing, you and Fancy set out to finish the plans. But the one thought that stuck with you was seeing Rarity in one of those saddles...