Money. Power. Greed. Lust. Pride. Wrath. All of these were traits in the elite nobles, including my parents, who were half-blood silvers. I suppose I grew up quite fortunate; living in a fine house, eating rich meals, having fancy clothes. I simply adored the latest fashions, and designed a few of my own, of course, not that I ever published them. My parents were in the business of wine-making. Red wine, to be specific. How ironic. You'd be surprised how well their business did, considering we were living in a drought and finiacial crisis. But there always seems to be room for wine. At least, for the nobles that is.
The society I lived in was very strict and distinguished. No food after seven o'clock. You are only permitted to have blueberry tea on Wednesdays, no exceptions. The rich always attend the 12:00 o'clock mass. Your hair mustn't be tousled, or your makeup smudged. There is a reputation to maintain, and if you were to break any of these rules, you will be punished severely.
No food for a week. Living off of stale crackers and muddy water for a week seems like a cruel punishment for not correctly combing your hair on our trip to the bank, doesn't it, mother? No matter. She's dead now. They had died in a carriage accident on their way to a party when I was seven years old. From then on I was raised by my great uncle Ferdinard, who was very lax with rules compared to my mother. Mother was the one who raised me, father was always away on 'business trips'. If going out to drink at fancy bars with friends is considered that. But it didn't matter, we were so rich we could just bribe our way out of any problem. It's sickening just to think about it.
When they passed away, I was overcome with a feeling I wouldn't call sadness, more like dreadful confusion. Honestly, I had never loved my parents. Mother was abusive and father was neglective. I usually played with the maid's children when mother wasn't looking. It was like my secret double life. I once had a friend of a scullery maid's daughter who was my age. She was lot's of fun to be around with, and most certainly the opposite of me. Applejackie, I think that was her name. We would always play outside in the dirt, when my mother wasn't home. I would always put on my least favorite or most uncomfortable dress, and ruin it in the mud. Every time I gave it to mother to throw out, I gave the same excuse. "The dog ate it, mother." She would always angrily scold me for not taking better care of my things, and them excuse herself to the other room to then scold the nanny for not taking care of me, and proceed to fire her. I never had a nanny for more than two weeks, at most.
Applejack was the longest friend I'd ever had. Looking back, I'm surprised that she and her mother lasted so long and that she and I were able to secretly play in such a boyish manner without being discovered for such a long time. When she finally did leave, it wasn't because we were discovered. Her mother and father had caught Spanish influenza and she was to be sent to the orphanage. Applejack told me that she wanted to be sent to a farm. Then she had grabbed her few possessions, and had been kicked out of the house by mother.
"That girl is contaminated, Rarity darling. We wouldn't want you to get sick, would we? Just think of what rumors would spread! Why, I would be known as the mother who let her daughter play with some sick diseased red blood filly." She shook her head. "That cannot happen. Come now, your new nanny will fetch you a bath. You're filthy." She flicked off a microscopic pinch of dirt in my hair, and sent me upstairs.
That was the end of Applejack. Several months later, the influenza was spreading so badly that my parents had decided to leave town. I would have gone with them, but, there wasn't enough room in the carriage for me. Too much of moher's dresses and jewelry occupied the space where I was supposed to be. We only had one carriage since there never was a big need for them, so I couldn't join mother and father. "We'll send someone to come back for you, dearie." Father said. I suppose on the way there they heard about the party at an inn or someplace, and quickly left to go there, instead of make haste to their new home as quickly as possible to send someone to get their young daughter out of a town full of a disease with no cure.
Uncle Ferdinard came by a few days later. I was home with the latest nanny that week. She was surprisingly very nice. She let me have a few small snacks after dinner occasionally when mother wasn't around, and we often played cards together. When Great Uncle Ferdinard had bust through the door, it was around nine o'clock. There was a hard rainstorm brewing outside. I would always trot up to the window excitedly every time lightning struck. Nanny and I were playing old maid in the dining room when he visited. Nanny excused herself from the room. Great uncle sat down on the chair nanny was sitting on. He told me about the news of my parents. My reaction was emotionless, at least, to Great Uncle's recitation of the event. But, I do recall, being skeptical, since I had never seen this man in my entire life. He explained to me who he was. He showed me his birth certificate and explained that he was father's uncle, and that my Granfather was his brother. He told me that I was going to live with him now. The whole situation was a blur. He escorted me and all of the servants to his series of carriages, much more extravagant than mother and father's, and as quickly as he had arrived, all of us left.
I remember looking at my father's old estate through the back window. The sun was starting to rise up against the backdrop of the old house. After seeing that, a surge of emotions overcame me. What was I feeling? Sadness? Joy? Fear? Honestly, the only feeling I can remember in that carriage ride was relief. It flooded over me like the storm's rain that filled the rivers and destroyed the town and my old house.
When we arrived several days later, I was astounded. Great Uncle's estate was three times larger than Father's. The gardens were filled with roses. There must have been at least a few hundred at first glance, and that was only the front courtyard. They were filled with white, yellow, pink, peach, white rosebud, orange, and many more. When Great Uncle saw me gaping at his collection, he laughed and said "What, this old back weed patch? Wait til' you see the back gardens sweetheart. It's nothing compared to this." I nodded enthusiastically in reply.
"Ah, you know, each rose color has a meaning. I can see that you're feeling orange right now." He smiled a toothy grin. "C'mon, I'll show you around."
I spent the rest of my girlhood and young adult life with Great Uncle Ferdinard. He was a very kind man, and always understanding. His home was like a heaven compared to my old one. His blood was even more silver than my parents'. I always asked him what it was like being more than fifty percent silver. He laughed and told me "You're more special than you think you are, girly."
I realize now that he must have sensed my power, and that was what had drawn him to raise me, instead of chuck me into an orphanage. I suppose it probably did get lonesome for him, since he had never had a wife or children. Who knows what could've happened if someone else decided to take care of the scandal surrounding my parents' deaths. Maybe I would have ended up working on a farm side by side with Applejack.
While living with Great Uncle, I had had a wonderful time. He had encouraged me to pursue my dreams in fashion, and I had earned myself a cutie mark in the process. I loved great uncle and his home, but it got very lonely from time to time. When I reached thirteen, nanny was no longer needed and Great Uncle explained that I could take care of myself now. Responsibility was part of growing up, and how am I supposed to learn if I'm not given a chance to prove myself and make my own decisions?
When I was fourteen, I had fallen for one of the guard's sons. He was a year older than I, and quite cute, if you ask. It was a very silly little crush, but what was I to do? I always stayed alone in my room, most of the time, designing dresses. I doubt a boy would share similar interests. I thought that no stallion would ever want to be with Rarity, who was so bland, and unoriginal. A mare who liked clothes and fashion? Pfft, there were tons of those in Prance's capital Canterlot, which was where we lived. I never ventured into the town, for there was no need. But I'd made small talk with some of the servant's daughters, who went shopping occasionally in the city with their mothers. One girl realized my crush and got an evil twinkle in her eye.
"Oh, you like that stallion over there? Well, you can't take him. He's already in a relationship with the head maid's daughter, Twinkleshine."
"What makes you so sure?" I asked back in a rude tone.
"I saw them kissing behind the fountain of Poseidon in the back courtyard."
Once again in despair, I ran back to my room, and spent the rest of the day there, weeping and eating sweets.
A few days later, I had seen the same mare from earlier making a move on him.
Now, I know what you're thinking, 'Well, of course he would choose Rarity over her, she's the estate owner's great niece! He would choose you over that other mare in a heartbeat!' Well, actually, none of the servant's children knew what I looked like. Technically, I wasn't supposed to be around the servant's children since Great Uncle was old-fashioned, but the other mares that I had been arranged to converse with were so boring. So I'd put on some rags and messup my hair, and take off my makeup. Great Uncle would never find out, because if he knocks on my door and no one is there, he'd just assume that I was using the restroom or that I was someplace else, perhaps with my other rich 'friends'. He never came to the end of the estate that we always were on, so I was safe. Not to mention, when the servant's children saw the real me at a fancy dinner they were required to attend or something in that manner, in my glamorous outfits and uncomfortable hairstyles, they'd shake it off and assume that it was just a coincidence, or they'd sputter and look so dumbfounded, they couldn't believe it. It was quite hilarious, to prank them like that.
But, when I saw that mare making a move so bold, I knew that she had been lying to me. I angrily came up to her and slapped her across the face. Her eyes widened so much I thought they were going to pop off of her face. She ran off cursing the name I had given her: 'Charity'. The boy was so busy laughing that he fell to the floor. I suppose I had 'saved' him from the other mare. I helped the boy up. He was a unicorn stallion. He wiped a tear off his face and signed a sigh of relief. "That was unexpected." He laughed again. I couldn't help but chuckle myself. "I'm s- uh," he coughed. "I'm dust keeper."
I laughed. "Oh, dust keeper? That's quite a unique name."
He smiled. "It most certainly is." A look of panic spread across his face. "Excuse me, I'm sorry, I just realized that I have to go." He rushed off so quickly I didn't even get to catch his whole cutie mark. It was a broom and dustpan. A forbidden romance. I doubt Great Uncle would allow a marriage to happen with a stallion like that.
Sadly, I never saw him again, or his father. Perhaps they had a family crisis, or they were psychotic murderers. I'll never know.
After that little humorous event, I'm afraid to say that was the last happy thing that ever happened to me while living with Ferdinard. Great Uncle soon died of old age. His funeral was very solemn, and dark. I wept for hours and refused to come out of my room. When I finally did come out, I decided that I was going run away, into Canterlot, and see what the world was really like. Who was going to care for me anyway? I had gathered a fraction of my bits and put them in a basket and went off to Canterlot. I needed a place to think.
