Rarity pored over the letter, clicking her tongue as she noticed a few minor imperfections. Not mistakes, so to speak, but sentences that simply lacked a certain elle ne sait pas quoi. Like a dress that was almost complete, one that most ponies would look at and say it was surely finished, but to her eyes was missing something. Some minor touch that tied it all and everything in between into something marvelous, so it brought out the wearer's beauty.
Of course, there was only so much that could be done to bring out a letter regarding such utterly mundane normalities, detailing of her and her younger sister’s day to day life. Perhaps the effort was wasted; after all her parents often seemed to have the fashion sense of blind, drunk bats, and it was doubtful they’d be able to see the effort she was putting into crafting each of these letters. Yet, it was her mother, and her father. They deserved the best, even if it was the detail from the lives of herself and her sister.
Her sister, particularly. They were missing so very much of her life! They had missed her cute-ceañera, her making friends, her first—no, it wasn’t good to dwell on that. What was, was. There was no point in upsetting herself, Rarity thought. After all, it wasn’t as if she could do anything about any of it.
Well… perhaps that wasn’t true.
She could talk to Twilight, ask her to… intervene. Perhaps it wasn’t possible, legally, and leaving aside such draconic and obscure readings of the legal literature, Rarity loathed to impose on her friend with such a request. She knew, perhaps better than any of their circle of friends, how much of a burden the mare carried alongside that crown.
No, it would just have to be. Celestia was generous, at least.
A few scratches of the pen, and the offending sentences were struck out, and a note written in the margins of the letter provided the necessary correction. It couldn’t be sent like this, of course, it would need to be rewritten, but that wasn’t concerning.
Reading further, she frowned as she reached the end of the most recent paragraph, and tapped the quill’s nub on the desk as she thought about what to write next, how to put the thoughts in order. Then she dipped her pen into the well and began to write.
I’m almost jealous, Mother, of Sweetie’s talent. At her age I certainly wasn’t making such an impact on the lives of the ponies around me. Oh, I was making dresses and doing what I could, but fashion wise I simply hadn’t a clue—
Rarity’s quill stilled as a swell of memory overtook her; she may have known what she wanted to do, but it hardly had instilled a good sense of fashion in her. She couldn’t help the slight flushing of her cheeks as she recalled many of the so-called creations she had made for literally anypony would expressed an interest. Which meant, usually, her parents; they had loved them, of course, and her mother still wore some of the outfits Rarity had put together, but…
Pants? What in the wide world of Equestria was she thinking?
It is amazing, really, Mother. I wish you and Father could see it, the way she and her friends help bring ponies back to their own dreams. I’m surprised, truthfully, that they’ve been able to help so many ponies. I hadn’t thought it was a common problem. So many ponies, as well as non ponies!
You should have seen them, this young griffin—
'Female' felt too sterile, but she doubted the griffin would think of herself as a filly. A moment of indecision and she ignored that—she’d ask Twilight later.
—this young griffin filly wanted to earn a cutie mark. Well, you could imagine, Mother! A griffin? With a cutie mark? Even though Sweetie must have known the futility of it, the three of them jumped right in, head first, and wouldn’t you know it, Mother? They became fast friends with little Gabrielle! I’ll admit I don’t have many griffon friends except—
Rarity stopped, her ears tilting and twisting at the sudden clattering from the floor above her. Sweetie Belle apparently, was up, despite it still being early on Saturday morning. And making quite the racket it seemed. With a frown, Rarity dabbed the excess ink off the nub of the quill and set it aside as the racket moved from the bathroom to the stairs, until it burst out in the form of an excited little filly.
“Rarity! Rarity!” Sweetie Belle shouted, as if Rarity wasn’t sitting alone in an empty, quiet workroom.
“Yes, Sweetie, what is it?” Rarity asked as she turned towards the filly as she came to a sliding, squeaking, halt.
“Rarity!” Sweetie cried, bouncing on her hooves. It was an extremely loud, if adorable, sight. “Rarity look! Look look look!”
The filly gestured towards her face, much to Rarity’s confusion.
“Look at what, darling? Oh, do hold still!”
Sweetie reluctantly came to a halt, then thrust her face towards Rarity with a grin. “See? You see?”
“See what?” Rarity asked, her eyes scanning her sister’s face with the keen eye of a seamstress. It took her but a moment to see it. There! A slight pink fuzz on the filly’s chin and jawline.
At first, Rarity thought Sweetie had gotten into some of Pinkie’s cupcakes—despite the early hour and lack of a proper and well-rounded breakfast. Then she noticed that the pink fuzz wasn’t simply pink, but two tones of pink. The colours of Sweetie’s mane and tail.
“Oh my goodness!” Rarity gasped, covering her mouth with her hoof. “Sweetie, you—”
“My beard is coming in!” Sweetie said, her voice a tangle of glee and pride. “I was worried I’d be the last unicorn in my class to get it!”
“I just… my word!” Unbidden, her hoof reached out and touched the silky soft fuzz on her sister’s face, as if Rarity was trying to make it more real to herself. Facial hair was one of the first signs of puberty in unicorns, of either sex, and intellectually, she knew Sweetie would eventually start heading down that path now that she had her cutie mark. Yet it felt too soon. Sweetie wasn’t some lanky, awkward yearling! She had barely gotten her cutie mark, for Celestia’s sake! Next she’d be putting on muscle and becoming interested in finding a special somepony—for herself, this time. She was supposed be her little sister! “I can’t believe it!”
“Isn’t it great?” Sweetie grinned, falling back on her haunches and clapping her hooves together in an adorable display that only seemed discordant with the new awareness of her sister’s pending transition into adulthood. “I’m the first one, Rarity! The first one!”
“I’m… sure that’s wonderful, Sweetie,” her voice was faint. She felt faint. Then she hardened, her resolve crystallizing. She smiled. It really was great. After all, her sister was maturing into a young mare, and she was there to guide her in all things lady-like. Oh, she could just imagine it now, the worrying over colts (or fillies), the drama of somepony going through higher education, the drama among her friends; those first teetering first steps towards adulthood; she’d finally be able to talk to her sister as an adult, rather than as a… little… filly.
Her resolve dampened.
She wished their mother and father was here for this, she had the impression she was going to need to spend some time with her special somepony soon enough.
“Well.” Too flat. “Well!” that was better: “I’m uh… congratulations, Sweetie, I… well, I’m sure you know what this means.”
Sweetie’s face grew strained and she nodded somewhat tensely. Neither of them had particularly enjoyed the ‘talk’ but it was an unavoidable topic, given how many ponies in Sweetie’s grade who were nearing puberty. Or already experiencing it.
“Yeah, uh.” Sweetie hesitated, before continuing in a brighter voice: “I’ve got to show Scootaloo and Applebloom!”
Rarity caught her in her magic before Sweetie’s dash to the door could grant her freedom. “Not like that you’re not, young lady! I’d rather Mother was here for this, but it would seem the task of teaching you how to shave falls to me.”
“What?!” Sweetie exclaimed, frowning at Rarity upside frown in the faint blue aura. “I don’t wanna shave! How the hay am I supposed to show everypony how grown up I am?” She punctured those words by crossing her forelegs and sticking her chin out.
“You’re not grown up yet, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity said crossly as she glanced around the room, making sure she hadn’t left anything unattended that shouldn’t be, before wrenching open the door and ascending the stairs to her living space. “And you’re not a colt! It’s simply not fashionable to go about unshaven, unless you’re a stallion and even then it’s rather uncouth! No sister of mine is going to embarrass herself going out like that!”
“But Rarity!”
“No buts!” Rarity said sharply. Too sharply. She forced herself to take a calming breath as she stepped into her house’s personal lavatory. Spacious and luxuriously decorated, Rarity had spent many an hour relaxing in the warmth of her tub. “Trust me, Sweetie, the novelty will wear off soon enough and you’ll find ponies giving you strange looks. It’s not a good feeling.”
Sweetie sighed as Rarity deposited her onto the floor, right side up.
Rarity gave herself a critical look in the mirror, frowning and turning her face this way and that, hoping, vainly, for some sort of imperfection. Reluctantly she sighed. Shaving was part of her ‘putting a face on’ routine, and whatever purple fuzz of her own was long gone, probably wouldn’t regrow until she dreamt a bit that night, and she wasn’t about to take a nap. So much for demonstrating to her sister the proper way to shave.
“Right,” Rarity said, turning to her sister, who had propped herself up on her hind legs and was admiring herself in the mirror, by making silly faces. She started and turned to look at her through the mirror. Once she had her attention, Rarity opened her cosmetics drawer and pulled out the long handled razorblade, and unfolded it. A piece of glass in the pin that connected the blade and hilt glowed faintly with purple light, almost like an amethyst. With her hoof, she unfolded the blade. “Now, I’m sure you’ve seen this before, it’s my razor.”
“Can’t I use magic to get rid of it?” Sweetie asked, eyeing the razor suspiciously, although there was a glint of eagerness in her eye, too.
She couldn’t help smiling fondly at the filly’s excitement even as she shook her head; what young unicorn didn’t love learning new spells? Goodness knows Rarity had been much the same way—even if it became clear pretty quickly that magic wasn’t her strong suit. “There is a spell, but I won’t be teaching you it—it’s quite advanced, Sweetie, even Twilight has difficulty with it.”
And, it was unfortunately close to a beard growth spell; one rune out of place and she’d have a beard long enough to trip over!
“Okay,” Sweetie nodded, “so…”
“So, for today, you’ll have to use my razor—I’ll go and buy you one later.” Rarity explained, twirling the blade in her magic, before passing it towards Sweetie handle first. “Here, It’s probably best if you try yourself. Don’t worry, it’s dull.”
“If it’s dull how’s it going to cut anything?” Sweetie frowned as her aura overwhelmed and replaced Rarity’s. A moment later the inset glass bead flashed pink. “Huh.”
“Magic, Sweetie,” Rarity explained. “It’ll only cut non-coat hair, so that’s pretty helpful, wouldn’t you agree?” Thank goodness for modern magical cosmetic technology. In centuries past mares actually had to pluck each hair out individually! No wonder so many unicorns grew their beards out back then. “It’ll cut your mane as well, so do be a bit careful with it.”
“Okay.”
“Now, I want you to take the razor and…” mimicking the motion of running the blade along her jawline with her empty hoof. It was hard to get the motion right, considering she usually used her magic for this, not her hoof. “Just nice and slow, darling, there’s no rush.”
Sweetie frowned at her, her eyes following the motion with a thoughtful light in them, then she looked back at the mirror and took a big gulp—Rarity did her best to hide her smile—and mimicked the motion almost exactly with the razor. As it ran against the coat, a small dusting of fuzz fell off onto Sweetie’s leg, which was following the razor’s motion. The filly stared at the fuzz with a surprised expression on her face, before sighing a bit sadly. “Aww.”
“Very good,” Rarity said. “Now, it’s same for most of the rest of your face—there’s a few tricky spots, just go slowly.” She adjusted the razor’s angling slightly. “Here, this might work better, nice and easy.”
A sense of pride snuck up on Rarity as she watched her little sister—not so little anymore, it would seem—slowly get the hang of shaving. Her strokes weren’t terribly smooth, and she winched a bit and cringed a few times where she had pressed the blade against her skin in a way that gave her a mild shock. There wasn’t any harm in it; Rarity shocked herself every other day, it felt like.
She couldn’t help remembering, either. Remembering her mother teaching her this Celestia knows how many years ago now, when she woke up one morning with a fuzz of purple hairs all over the bottom of her chin. Like Sweetie, she had been more than excited to show it off—a memory that caused Rarity to cringe even now. Their mother wasn’t nearly as quick with her magic as Rarity was.
“I’m done,” Sweetie said, putting the razor down on the counter. Her voice carried a slightly questioning tone.
“Let me see…” Rarity said, gently tilting her sister’s head one way then the other, inspect for any bits of missed beard—there were some. Maybe she should have Sweetie redo it, but from her expression, she wasn’t eager to stick around. Tomorrow, then. With far more skill, Rarity smoothed out the missed areas, leaving her clean shaven, as she should be.
Rarity breathed a sigh of relief. “Alright Sweetie, all done. Next time make sure you get it all, okay? Nothing worse than a half-shaven beard, after all. You can go.”
A few minutes of brushing up the discarded hairs—she’d have to impress upon her sister the importance of cleaning up after herself, she wasn’t about to have hair all over her bathroom floor—Rarity returned to the workshop down stairs. There was a certain bubbly spring in her step, although as she neared her half finished letter, the sense of pride melted into something more melancholy. As much as she loved seeing Sweetie’s face, all screwed up and focused on the task at hoof, it should have been her mother seeing it, not her. Helping her shave for the first time; watching her grow up; being there for her daughter.
Sighing, she settled back onto her cushion and completed her thought, before adding a short paragraph at the end mentioning that she had taught her sister how to shave. There was nothing more that truly needed to be done. Once she had copied the letter and its corrections over to a new sheet of paper, she sanded it, folded it, and grabbed her saddle bags.
A short trot later and she had dropped the letter off with Muffins, addressed to Black Stone with little to no fanfare; Muffins knew where the letter was supposed to go, most of the town did, in one way or another, which was only natural, she supposed. The mailmare also knew that she’d rather not be hassled over it—or asked to really talk much. It was a chore, in many senses, a voluntary one, but one all the same. Besides, without talking about it, Rarity could pretend her parents weren’t in prison but rather traveling somewhere. Perhaps they were modern day explorers.
She found herself standing in front of the giant crystal doors of her special somepony’s home. It was almost certain Twilight would be there, or if not, a note or friendly dragon to point her in the right direction. Part of her felt she needed it just now.
Yet, that could wait. Rarity shook herself and turned back towards the shoppes that outlined Ponyville’s market. Obviously Sweetie couldn’t keep using her razor, and because of it being her little sister, any razor just wouldn’t do. No, it’d have to be perfect. Something mature, yet still appeal to her fillyhood sensibilities. After all, there was no need to rush her into adulthood.
Maybe their parents would be there to see her bloom into the mare Rarity was sure she’d be—but if not, Sweetie still had her, after all.
Author's Note
Had the random bit of headcanon the other day: What if both sexes of unicorn developed beards? and this is the result.
Unicorns, in european mythology, are actually quite a bit different from unicorns in MLP. Unlike the show, unicorns of legend have cloven hooves, lion tails and sometimes a goat beard (the artist doesn't depict the lion-like tail, but does depict the other two aspects).
Regarding Rarity's parents: when they're on the show they're probably out on a day pass, since I doubt they're violent offenders. It's likely that the whole 'traveling' thing is a story that Rarity and her parents concocted to explain things to Sweetie Belle.
