In the Reflection of Elegance

by Marina

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Comedy, Rarity, Random
Length: 3137

Rarity has made clones to help with her work. And, Rainbow Dash just had to find them. In a downward spiral of events, Dash finds herself a hostage to the mares and forced into a makeover. And, well, she dosn't exactly hate it

Rarity is struggling through the worst busy season she's had by far, and desperate for help. She soon decides to seek help, through the mirror pool. Aided by an army of clones they can finally power through countless orders and rarity can relax. Unfortunately, Rainbow Dash finds out and, after an attempt to return them to the mirror pool, is forced into one of Rarity’s makeovers. Surprisingly, she dosnt entirely hate it... but you didn't hear that from her.

Published 2020-10-24 19:40:00 UTC
Last updated 2020-10-24 19:40:00 UTC

Chapter 1

"Agggg!"

An anguished cry pierced the air, sharing loud and clear the frustration that had inspired it.

There went yet another idea into the waste basket, aiding in the creation of an unending pile of useless sketches and horrendous designs.

Rarity groaned allowing her forehead to introduce itself to the wood of her desk.

Where had her inspiration gone? This was the worst possible time to have creators block. Between running three boutiques, attending countless fashion shows across Equestria, and creating a million and a half unique ensembles for important social events that she, her friends, or clients, would be attending, she had no use nor desire to spend so much valuable time on what would, ultimately, be useless trash. Uninspired waste.

She was no stranger to busy seasons. Truly, she had thrived in them before. Those days had been filled with a spark that kindled and burned and thrived out of necessity. There had always been a spark of inspiration she could feed, a fire that glowed brightly and never had to be put out. But this? This was unlike anything she had ever encountered before. There was no spark left. No excitement. Just frustration, anger, and agony. Plain and simple negativity.

Heaven help her, she had to get through this.

She lifted her forehead begrudgingly, a frown set into every feature of her face, so deep, in fact, she feared it had already become permanently set into her once perfect coat and flawless facial features. With a sigh she lifted her pearly white whooves to massage her temples.

‘Breathe,’ She had to remind herself as she ran through a few calming exercises to relax, gather, and refreshen her mind.

‘You can do this darling, it’s simple designing,”

Simple? Yes, simple. She could do this.

The moment of reprieve was a much needed reminder to shoulder on, to keep going, to create. The moment became almost magical to her as she felt rejuvenated, ready to regain her creativity. A million ideas ghosted through her mind. There they paused, and steeped for half a second, then they were gone. Drifting just out of reach of her conscious thought and attention. If she could catch one-just one- it would lead others to fall in line. Just one idea. One creation. She lifted her signature purple feathered quill, determination embedded in her eyes as she filled the delicate nib with ink.

A new sheet of paper was set before her by the power of her magic. Fresh. Pure. Brimming with potential. She confidently lowered her quill to that blank parchment. She was on the verge of brilliance, a feeling that was nearly palpable. The pen was lowered. Half an inch from the paper. So close to inspiration. A moment from creation...

It stopped.

The quill froze as Rarity’s mind once again drew a blank, the quill having no clue where to go, what to create. It floated in midair waiting. All for nothing. Each brief ghosting thought drifting so far they left her wondering if they'd ever even been there in the first place.

“Oh for Celestia’s sake!” Rarity screeched her quill dropping to the table carelessly as she flopped forward in another fit of frustration.

Half an hour later Rarity sat, lazily propped up on one elbow, leaning uncomfortably against the desk without a true care. Her mind numbingly dull and blank as she scribbled blots of nothing on a previously blank sheet. With a deep sigh she looked down upon the page full of more useless scribbles. A nagging reminder of her wasted time.

In a scrunch of her magic the paper crumbled beneath the telepathic pressure and was tossed carelessly into an overwhelming pile of scrapped sketches, doodles, and uninspired scribbles.

She resisted the impulse to slam her forehead against the desk repeatedly and instead shoved her body away from her little corner. Swiftly, she stood and left the room head high and eyes glazed with dulled frustration. Odd how she could care so much and so little at the same time.

She realized it was useless to force out a sketch, she would just have to focus on what she’d already planned to sew and risk getting behind in her designing process.

After preparing a steaming cup of peppermint tea to wake her mind, she entered her sewing room. Messes of string, rulers, ribbons, and lace decorated the working spaces and, regrettably, the floors, meanwhile, every bolt of fabric she possessed was tucked away neatly to prevent wrinkles and damage.

In an instant everything was up off the floor and tucked away for later use. At the same time, several bolts of fabric were lowered from shelves and placed on the cutting tables along with Rarity’s previously existing sketches that were waiting to be brought to life.

For the rest of the day and late into the night she worked with surprising efficiency, eventually falling asleep on her desk and waking in the morning with the worst neck cramp known to ponykind.

For several days this trend continued. Wake up at the crack of dawn. Quick breakfast. Cup of tea. Try to sketch-some days brought forth more fruits than others. Sew and sew and sew late into the night till her figure drooped and her horn fizzled out, all consciousness gone in an instant. Rarely did she wake mid-rest to find herself drowsy and on her way to her warm, plush, bed seeking the comfort she craved desperately.

That morning she was faintly aware of the blankets and bedding around her. Though she had, like many other nights, no recollection of getting there, she was glad she had found her way in the dead of night through a sleeping stupor.

In a haze of permanent exhaustion, Rarity stepped weakly out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom door with the gracefulness of a newborn doe upon a slippery slope. An incredibly slippery slope. The pearly unicorn leaned back against the door effectively shutting it behind her. She blinked. Then again. The haze hadn’t lifted entirely, but she found herself with enough awareness to examine herself in the mirror. Oh, she looked ghastly. Her eyes dark and foggy with tiredness, her mane and coat ruffled, teased, and unkempt, and rings of mascara formed below her eyes, undoubtebly from sleeping with her makeup on. Again.

She looked like a racoon. Not one of those cute, well kept, racoons Fluttershy kept in her company, mind you, but a dirty, matted creature who lived in filth and scrounged around in garbage.

And, if that wasn't enough, she looked dead. Dead in the eyes. Dead in spirit. To her dismay she noted her likeness was that of a dead and filthy racoon.

Then again, that may have been too harsh on the racoon.

Rarity grimaced as she lifted a cotton ball and soaked it in makeup remover. In a quick concise swipe all the makeup was dragged mercilessly away from her coat.

It was time to put herself together before another grueling day.

After a cold shower to wake her up and a quick breakfast accompanied by a warm cup of herbal tea, Rarity was back in her sewing room and deep into her work. She forced her tired eyes into focus and resisted the urge to rest. Orders were piling up every day and tasks were becoming more and more time consuming. Today’s focus was to finish sewing for a Manehattan fashion show the following week so she could send them off to her assistants to present at the show.

How she wished she could go, but immediately after was a social event of major importance in Canterlot. If she went to the show she would never finish those outfits in time.

She’d have to deal with a dozen upset clients which would delay work on another round of fashion show outfits, thus delaying the release of a new line to all three of her boutiques.

It would be one delay after another, after another, after another.

And she had no time to waste. No time to spare. No time for delays.

She gasped at a sharp prick in her hoof, recoiling it from her work as if from fire.

She grimaced as she carefully moved her work out of the way. She had been hoof-stitching detailing to a piece of clothing and no matter how focused she tried to be she’d gotten distracted and allowed thoughts to come a mile a minute. At that point her brain shifted to working through muscle memory alone. And it seemed her muscles remembered getting pricked a little too well. Can't sew without stabbing yourself with the smallest most painful object known to a seamstress.

The pearly white unicorn quickly cleaned and took care of the hoof before sitting back down to finish the garment, more carefully this time to prevent future injury and potential staining of the garment with her crimson blood.

Hours passed in careful concentration. Rarity became hunched over her work for several more tiring hours without registration of the passage of time, and no thoughts for breaks.

Fold. Cut. Pin. Sew. Repeat. All day in a rhythm that quickened and slowed but never altered. Fold. Cut. Pin. Sew. Again and again.

The sky was dimming. She had missed lunch; might even miss dinner. Her brain was so focused on her one goal. A tunnel by which everything else was forgotten and unnoticed but that one point at the end. Work. Work. Work.

It was a knock on the frame of her sewing room that yanked her from the single focus of her mind. A small noise that ripped the numbness brought by such devoted concentration and brought her to an awareness of herself and everything around her. Her aching back, her stiff neck that caused the head to swing as easily as a door on rusted hinges.

Her eyes moved their focus to her visitor. A mare of buttercream color and a gentle pink mane.

“Fluttershy darling!” Rarity smiled, “Nice to see you dear, what brings you by,”

“Oh,” Fluttershy smiled sheepishly, “I just came to check on you,”

Rarity tilted her head like a confused puppy, “Check on me?” She laughed lightly, “That’s sweet darling but whatever for?”

Fluttershy hesitated, but at length answered gently.

“You missed spa day,”

“Oh,” Rarity’s ears tucked back. She and Fluttershy always had weekly get-togethers at the spa, it was tradition! And they very rarely broke tradition. She cursed her name; how could she have forgotten? “I’m so sorry, darling. It’s been so busy at the boutique lately, it must have slipped my mind entirely,”

“It’s alright Rarity,” Fluttershy offered, “I’m just glad you are okay and it wasn't some bigger reason you missed,”

“But that’s the point,” Rarity grimaced, “I forgot. Plain and simple. I had no reason to miss, and I kept you waiting,”

“Don't worry about it, I can forget too,” She winked, revealing a deeper meaning to her words.

“Would you,” Rarity perked leaning in hopefully.

“Already forgotten,” Fluttershy pledged with a hoof over her heart.

Rarity raised a hoof to her own heart and sighed a breath of relief, “Thank you, darling,”

“Of course,”

Any further discussion was interrupted by a demanding gurgle from within Rarity. More precisely, from within her stomach

Fluttershy raised a brow, “Did you forget to eat too?”

“...Yes,” The other mare admitted sheepishly.

“How about this,” Fluttershy began, “to make up for missing our get-together at the spa today, we go grab some dinner and have some relaxing time instead.”

“That sounds lovely,”

Over a nice meal of a couple of salads and soups, Rarity was explaining all that she was working on for the past few days, and all she would have to do in upcoming weeks, therefore explaining every stress upon her and the very reasons she had forgotten such an important meeting.

“That is a lot,” Fluttershy admitted after consideration of every word, “Haven’t you thought about hiring somepony to help you with your sewing,”

“Well, yes and no,” Rarity frowned into her tea, “I have assistants for running the boutique, handling customers, doing alterations and whatnot. But my designs have a certain aspect about them. It takes so much of my creative vision to create them. So far I’ve found nopony to be capable of executing that vision as carefully and thoughtfully as I do,

"While an apprentice of sorts would be nice, bringing on another designer with their own totally different style already developed would be more of a hinderance to me than anything- due to the difference in technique of course. Besides, I can't teach somepony and do everything that I’m doing. Not at the same time,”

“No pony else could create those outfits the way you do,” Fluttershy understood entirely what she meant. Rarity did have a wonderfully unique style, one that set her apart and made her the envy of all designers. It was that unique touch that drew in so many of her customers and brought them back time after time. Regardless it begged the question: did no pony have the skill in all of Equestria?

“Well, you could,” She confessed hesitantly and humbly at the same time, “When you brought that design for my gala dress to life all those years ago, it was perfectly executed. Exactly as I would have done it. Of course, you have your sanctuary to run and I couldn’t ask you to take your attention away from that,”

Fluttershy looked ready to comment on the thought.

“Don't even think of offering to do it anyways,” Rarity lifted her eyes to meet Fluttershy’s “You are too kind, but I won’t let you forsake your own duties for me,”

The little yellow pegasus gave a sheepish grin, both knowing that was exactly what she had intended to say.

“I’ve managed this long," Rarity sighed, “I can manage a little longer,”

"Rarity, if you need help there is no shame in asking, you have so many friends ready and willing to help you out,” The meek yellow pegasus persisted despite Rarity’s objections, “you are surrounded by ponies who could help even for just a day, all you need to do is ask, and help will come,”

The pure white unicorn smiled gratefully at the offer"Thank you, I'll keep it in mind,"

Though she agreed to the words, she knew she couldn't ask. She couldn’t take her friends away from their lives just to help her with something she should be able to handle on her own… No matter how much she needed it.

Throughout the rest of that evening the conversation carried on pleasantly despite one single thought that repeated with the persistence of a broken record.

You need some help. You can't do it on your own. Not this time. Get somepony to assist you. You can't keep on. Not on your own.

Yet, after each repeat one thought fought back with more force than any other: couldn't she?

Author's Note

This story is by request of JBlaser and inspired by the episode 'Too Many Pinkie Pies'. I hope you enjoy, and thank you for taking the time to read because I'm absolutely loving writing this and can't wate to share what is to come. Please Follow and review! Your comments mean the world to me, so if you could spare a few seconds to share your thoughts, that would be greatly appreciated!

See you in the next update!

IMPORTANT UPDATE

Authors Note

Hey guys, so, five minutes after posting this I started getting PMs and Messages saying they had also received requests that were suspiciously similar to this one. So, I looked into it, and found four stories with the same basis, all requested by the same user, all completed. Now, when I confronted JBlaser/JBlaster about asking other authors to write the same story, they said that they had asked and everyone had a) said no b) never responded or c) agreed and then not said anything for months and ultimately didn't write the story. Of course, I knew after a quick search that that was a blatant lie.

So, here's my issue. I was not told about this, and perhaps I should have looked into this before writing the request, but I didn't have reason to think they'd asked others, and they'd had it written for them several times.

As a writer, I don't mind requests. If I like the prompt, I am happy to write it, but for them to request the same prompt to several writers, as opposed to requesting original ideas once their first was done. It is a bit of an insult that they give me the same thing they've had four other writers write. And will likely continue to ask other writers to write.

So, what do you think? This incident makes me unnerved and pretty much unwilling to finish and post the rest of the story. :facehoof: It honestly feels like a scam, as opposed to an honest request because someone enjoyed my writing. So, I'm canceling this story. If you get a request similar to this:

" Rarity is tired from all the dresses she had to make for a order and needed help , so she uses the pond to make clones of herself to help her on the boutique while she goes to the spa , but they get out of control and run around the town , Rainbow dash sees this and tries to bring clones back to the boutique and get Twilight to get rid of them , as she tried the clones get annoyed by her and get an idea , so they grab her using their magic and gives her a full makeover (facials, manicures , makeup , hair , jewelry and clothes ) and she ends up looking beautiful and fashionable as well as teaching her how to act feminine

At the end the original Rarity come back , sees at her boutique that all the work was done and is greeted by RD who now was acting elegant and calling herself Rarity , to Rarities is surprised and scared by this , realizing what happened she orders the clones to go back to the pool , they go but they also grab RD with them thinking she is one of them , Rarity panics and chases after them ."

I would recommend not agreeing to write it. They've had it written several times over. It's a waste of your time unless you are 1000% in love with it. But hey, just a thought.

Thank you for your interest and for your time. But I will not be finishing this. Keep an eye out for these stories. See you in the next story.