“We’re very pleased with your company this afternoon, Miss Rarity,” Upper Crust said as she poured tea into cups around their table.
“Indeed,” Jet Set added. “I believe this is the first time you’ve visited our estate?”
“It is,” Rarity answered, nodding and smiling. “It’s every bit as grand as you’ve described. I apologize business arrangements have kept me from accepting your invitations for so long.”
Upper Crust clicked her tongue. “Oh no no no, it’s no trouble. We of all ponies would be the first to say hard work comes before success. We can’t fault results, now can we?”
Even as Rarity laughed with them, she internally rolled her eyes. She knew as well as they did she would likely never see eye-to-eye with their business practices; Jet Set’s private transportation company had weathered more than a few workers’ compensation controversies, while every major jeweler in Canterlot had either joined Upper Crust’s partnerships or moved elsewhere. They weren’t quite as oppressive as Zesty Gourmand, or as ruthless as how Applejack and Fluttershy had described Gladmane, but she was certainly glad she wasn’t forced to work with them in the fashion industry.
“So do tell us, what are your plans going forward?” Jet Set asked, sipping his tea. “I imagine with outlets in Ponyville, Canterlot, and Manehattan, you might be planning future locations?”
“Oh, all I need now is time,” Rarity affirmed, drinking from her own teacup. “Expanding is always risky, as you know, but personally I’m having trouble finding anywhere to go but up.”
Jet Set and Upper Crust shared a glance. “We agree,” Upper Crust said. “In fact, we agree so much we would like to offer you a proposition.”
“Oh?” Rarity said, keeping her tone carefully measured; curious, but not eager. “What do you have in mind?”
“I will cut right to the chase, Miss Rarity,” Jet Set said, straightening and standing up from his luxury couch. “We would like to buy you out.”
Rarity blinked. “Buy me out? I wasn’t aware you were planning on entering the fashion business. It seems so sudden!”
“Because it is sudden,” Upper Crust said. “We’ve been reluctant to consider it seriously because you’ve kept your stores as such an... independent enterprise.”
Rarity nodded, keeping a straight face, but inside she was struggling not to crack a smile. Oh dear, I know you must have thought very poorly when I was a “country” entrepreneur from Ponyville. Goodness, was our meeting at Fancy Pants’ dinner party that long ago…?
“Nonetheless,” she continued, regaining Rarity’s attention, “seeing as your stores have gotten such positive reception, and your revenue base has been nothing but robust since you’ve gone public, it’s something we want to be a part of.”
“...Yes,” Rarity said carefully. “Perhaps we could discuss you purchasing some equity sometime in the future...?”
“Ah, but we would like all the equity.” She punctuated her comment with a magical flourish, drawing out what looked like a contract. “We’ve inked everything out here. Twenty million bits, in exchange for 100% equity. We believe we are vastly overvaluing you; the most generous offer you’d get anywhere else wouldn’t even be half.”
Rarity pursed her lips. “I’m sorry, but while your offer is very generous, and I’m certainly humbled by the amount of faith you are putting in my brand, I’m afraid I’m entirely unwilling to just give it up. My work is too important to me.”
Jet Set huffed. “I was afraid you’d say that. It’s a pity, really. This could be so much easier.”
She blinked, fighting to keep her voice level. “What are you insinuating, Mr. Set?”
He snorted. “I’ve never been one to mince words. You’ve been drinking laced tea.”
Rarity’s teacup tumbled to the floor, no longer held in her magic. A brown stain began growing in the carpet.
Upper Crust nodded. “Of course, should you sign now, we’ll be more than happy to provide the antidote.”
Rarity finally forced herself to laugh. “This is just a prank, isn’t it? I would understand if you’re trying to make me feel more comfortable; it would be something Rainbow Dash-like to make a joke about. I’m afraid you haven’t quite fooled me, however, seeing as you also drank the tea.”
“Oh no, it wasn’t in your tea,” Upper Crust sniffed, “just your teacup.”
“All the same, it’s a wonderful effort, and I applaud your intention to make me feel at home.” Only her long practice at keeping herself cool and collected was preventing her voice from rising in panic.
“There’s no joke,” Jet Set declared. “We want your business, and if you won’t give it to us voluntarily, we’ll make you.”
She gulped. “I don’t believe you. You can’t possibly risk...! What about my friends? You would be committing one of the highest crimes there is!”
“Oh, we’re well aware the potential consequences,” Upper Crust said, waving a hoof dismissively as her husband smiled. “But business is always about staying one step ahead, and we can count on you to protect us.”
“Me to—!” While she was no longer treating their claim as a joke, their most recent comment just confused her. “Why would you ever expect me to defend you after this?!”
“Ah, but you won’t be defending us. Or rather, you will, but not as Rarity. Isn’t that right, Solemn Vow?”
As Jet Set’s sentence’s last three syllables left his lips, something awoke inside Rarity. She had never heard the name before, but it called to her with incredible familiarity, so close she could almost mistake it for hers. She felt a quick rush of dizziness, shaking her head to clear it. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but—”
“Stop talking, Solemn Vow,” Jet Set ordered. She immediately clamped her mouth shut, her eyes widening. Why should I listen to him?! But try as she might, she couldn’t bring herself to speak.
“Everything we’ve said is the truth,” Upper Crust said, circling their table to approach her up close. “We were cautious to extend a hoof to you at first. Our valuation is extraordinarily generous. And we are willing to take a lot of risk.”
“Sign here, please, Solemn Vow,” Jet Set said, levitating up a quill wet with ink. She immediately took it and set to find the line. “Oh, and sign it as you have before, just as ‘Rarity,’ if you please.”
She struggled with all her might not to sign it, or to even sign it some odd way so as to claim they had forged it, but she found herself signing it exactly as she always had, just as Jet Set had told her. And why does he insist on calling me Solemn Vow?! My name is... is... A bead of sweat rolled down her face.
“Thank you very much,” Jet Set said once she’d finished, blowing lightly on the cursive “Rarity” and levitating it elsewhere. “It’s been a pleasure. I can tell you’re just dying to speak though, so why don’t you?”
“What have you done to me?!” she shrieked.
“Oh dear, perhaps you could speak a little more calmly, Solemn Vow?” Upper Crust commented.
She felt an ice-cold stone drop into her stomach, and felt herself become much less angry, though still quite irritated. “What have you done to me?” she repeated firmly.
“Better.” Upper Crust looked to her husband; he nodded at her to continue. “The ‘poison’ you’ve imbibed is a rather nasty concoction. Perhaps it’s fortunate most ponies don’t know very much about zebras’ history; they’ve wrestled with magic and beasts so terrible they’d vaporize Discord in an instant. Of course, with a lot of jewelry coming from zebras’ gem mines and the recent pickup in emigration to Equestria, we’ve both picked up quite a bit of knowledge. Did you know—”
Jet Set cleared his throat.
“Yes, well, anyway, they hide their shameful side of history much less than ponies, and one such relic is the potion coursing through your veins at this moment. To answer your question, because we’ve spoken your new name, we can control you. Completely.”
“So, not unlike a compulsion charm?” she tested. Even if it is a powerful spell, they still can’t hide forever.
“Oh no, I think you misunderstood,” Jet Set said, stepping forward as well. “When we say ‘control,’ we mean all of you. We can control everything you do, everything you think...”
“...Or even who you are,” Upper Crust finished. “For example, your name has always been Solemn Vow, hasn’t it...?”
“Yes,” Solemn Vow answered, not quite able to keep confusion and suspicion from leaking into her voice. They’ve already changed me. My name has to be something different from Solemn Vow with how they’re saying it, but what? She racked her brain trying to remember her name being anything different. She remembered Spike introducing her work in her rather disastrous Ponyville fashion show as “Solemn Vow.” She’d had “Solemn Vow + Prince Chaming” engraved on her hope chest she’d prepared—perhaps too quickly—before her first Grand Galloping Gala. Even her school notebooks she remembered from when she attended Ponyville Elementary all had “Solemn Vow” scribbled on them.
It must have been something else, Solemn thought desperately. It must have been!
Seemingly perceiving her confusion, Jet Set put a hoof on her shoulder. “It’s alright, Solemn. You can trust us.”
Solemn immediately felt her heart open to both Canterlot nobleponies. Despite disagreeing with them on business practices, she knew they’d never betray her. She had signed over her entire business to them, after all. “I’m so confused...”
“Jet Set!” Upper Crust said indignantly. “Just seal the deal already and say what you need to!”
Her husband sighed. “I suppose you’re right. No logic in making her more confused than she already is.” Jet squared himself. “Solemn Vow, your name belongs to myself and my wife, and only us.”
Solemn felt her heart skip a beat. When she spoke, her voice trembled. “My name is yours.”
“So it is done.”
Solemn Vow felt dizziness overtake her again, and just like last time, it cleared almost instantly. “W-What did that do?”
“Remember, we can control who you are,” Upper Crust said, stepping back. “I would like your mane and tail to be blue, and your coat a nice bronze.”
Instantly, Solemn’s mane and tail lightened, matching her eyes. She felt every hair on her coat prick her like needles as brown overtook white at their base and crept all the way up to their tips. The entire change took barely a moment. Upper Crust nodded approvingly. “Yes, that’s a good start. Perhaps your mane and tail could be more manageable? I’ve personally always preferred shorter lengths.”
Her mane sheared itself off, blue strands collecting at her hooves as she felt her mane reweave itself into a shorter cut. Solemn stumbled back into her chair. “W-Wait, what are you doing?!”
“Well it won’t do to have you looking like you did, would it? That’s not a very good disguise,” Jet Set said condescendingly. “Speaking of, I want you to be from... oh, let’s say Baltimare. And I don’t want you sounding so cultured anymore either.”
With a blink, Solemn felt something had changed, but didn’t know what. Her larynx twitched in her throat. “Why do I need a disguise?” She flinched at her voice, not quite knowing why. She’d always had a raspy contralto, hadn’t she?
“Well-known fashion stars aren’t bodyguards. How about you take on some muscle too, I’d rather have somepony who I feel confident in actually protecting me.”
Solemn felt herself grow a few inches as her hooves thickened from being daintily slender to strong and agile. Her midsection tightened and hardened as firm layers of muscle packed themselves tightly into her body.
She blinked, raising a hoof and flexing. She couldn’t remember ever working out, but she nonetheless felt completely comfortable with her physique, as if she were totally used to it.
“Hmm...” Upper Crust hummed. “I’d like you to be male, as well.”
“Male?” Jet Set asked as Solemn shuddered. “I don’t remember agreeing to that!”
“I don’t trust you with another mare around. I’m not about to let you abuse it just so you can have some eye candy.”
Solemn couldn’t keep track of their argument any longer, barely staying on her hooves as she felt her entire body heave. She looked down, watching fur from her hooves flake away and reveal black hoofnails.
Twitching her legs, she felt her muscles multiply in volume, growing larger and filling out her frame. Her frame grew broad and sturdy as her stance widened, her hindquarters stretching to house incredible strength. She grew in size, almost as tall as Big Macintosh now as her chest swelled with a stallion’s power.
She stumbled backward onto the floor, barely feeling her hindquarters absorb the blow through all the muscle as she clutched her head with her hard hooves. She felt a lump drop down into her throat, and her whimpers of pain deepened into a gravelly groan. Her slim jaw chiseled itself into a square shape, widening her face as her nose followed suit. Her forehead bulged out as her eyelashes receded and her eyes shrank, leaving a face nopony would possibly mistake as female.
Deep inside her brain, neurons were severing and reconnecting at lightning speeds. Faces were lost. Names were retained. General knowledge took priority over detail. Inspiration took the form of suits and ties over dresses. Whether innate or learned, Solemn Vow was gaining and losing characteristics, shifting her to a completely masculine identity.
Solemn Vow shook his head, trying to rid the last of the brief dizziness he’d felt. Something big just happened... but what? He stood brushed himself off, trying to appear cool even while he felt hopelessly lost.
“Fine,” Jet Set declared as Solemn tuned back in to their conversation, “Solemn can be male. But if you’re going to be adamant about him not being my supposed ‘eye candy,’ I’ll make sure he won’t be eye candy for you either.” Jet turned to Solemn, scowling. “Let’s see you thirty years older. There’s nothing wrong with experience over youth, anyway.”
Solemn felt his body quiver once again. His muscles sagged—he was still powerful, but it was certainly harder to keep in shape than if he were younger. Small wrinkles embedded his face. Hair from his mane pushed out and fell to the floor, leaving bald temples and a wispy front to his hairline.
“Are you trying to make a bodyguard or a withered old lump?!” Upper Crust shrieked.
“He’s hardly ‘withered’!” Jet Set snapped. “And need I remind you he’s here to do a job, not look pretty!”
“Fine! Solemn Vow, you’re a minotaur!”
Solemn felt his body seize even more powerfully as the two nobleponies’ conversation again turned to meaningless background buzzing. He felt his hindlegs squashing and stretching, making him feel like his backside was too short to be comfortable. His torso lowered as well, and he fell back on his posterior again as his center of balance shifted too low for him to remain on his front hooves.
Still unable to hear the two nobleponies’ arguing, Solemn fixed his eyes on his chest as he stood on only his hindlegs, watching his muscles practically explode outward and gain incredible definition as pectoral and abdomen muscles rippled through his blue fur. He felt his hooves stretch sideways and up, rotating to his sides as shoulders grew and gained definition. His biceps exploded into melons, his neck shortened and thickened, and he dazedly brought a hoof up to watch it separating into five digits, forming nimble fingers.
He felt his muzzle push outward, widening and shedding hair to leave a round, pinkish snout. His eyes grew small and beady, and his mane grew short and thick, the individual strands becoming bushy and stiff. Finally, bony, black protrusions erupted from above his shrinking ears, twisting upward and curving into a menacing pair of horns. He remained a bit past his prime, but he was still not a bull you’d want to get the horns from!
“...Then he should be younger again! Unless you think I’m attracted to minotaurs now?!”
Solemn grunted as he felt energy flow through him, making his strength feel so much more effortless. He flexed a bulging muscle, unable to stop himself from grinning at how it almost looked like it might leap right out from his skin.
“...If that’s the case, I want him to be entirely serious! No humoring any nonsense you might pull!”
Solemn’s smile dropped from his face as he drew himself to his full height, his back ramrod-straight. The entire concept of a “joke” was practically erased from his mind.
“...Just make him a dumb meathead, why don’t you! If he’s going to be a bodyguard, that’s all he should even know how to do, isn’t it?!”
Solemn Vow put a hand to his head, his ears starting to hurt from all the arguing. He didn’t really grasp what they were arguing about, but he was never much for words anyway. He knew how to protect whatever people told him to protect, and that was about it. At least it was something he could make a living doing.
“...Did you just—?!”
Solemn perked, seeing the two ponies’ argument devolve into hitting and slapping at each other. Taking a purposeful step forward, Solemn grasped each pony by their neckscruffs and lift them up to his eyes. They both stared at him, speechless, as he gave them a stony expression before gently placing them back on the floor.
Jet Set brushed himself off, clearing his throat. “Err, thank you, Solemn Vow. I suppose we did let our little spat get a tad too much out of hoof.”
“Perhaps we should stop, before we go too far?” Upper Crust said, looking toward her husband.
A very small, very faint part of Solemn Vow thought, you’ve already gone quite far enough already! Solemn blinked, immediately dismissing it. The mere idea—and Solemn Vow was not one for ideas—was almost alien to him in the first place, and on top of that, his only loyalties were to the ponies before him. No one else mattered. Nothing else mattered.
“Solemn Vow, you are ours,” Jet Set stated.
“My name is yours,” Solemn rumbled. “My body is yours. My mind is yours.”
Jet Set nodded. “Well now, that takes care of that. What say we begin making good on Rarity’s contract?”
“Sounds wonderful, dear,” Upper Crust said. “I’m sure we’ll do just fine with our new acquisition.”
“Our new business, or our new bodyguard?” Both ponies laughed.
Solemn Vow blinked.
