The Book of Friendship

Withania wasn’t a pony who often bothered with clothes. She was practical, down to earth (more so than many could claim), not one for fancy parties where dressing up in things like “pants” would be necessary. All of which was to say that she didn’t really make a habit of visiting Rarity’s boutique. Which was a shame; Rarity seemed by all accounts to be a fun pony to get to know, and the building itself was definitely a lovely place, the carousel style suggesting both old-school class and a charming sort of eccentricity. Now though, Withania had a very good excuse to go see the place. All she had needed was an excuse, as part of this excuse. Well, “simple earth pony looking for fashion advice” would do it alright.

The plant mare knocked on the door and waited. A trilling voice could be heard in reply, and after a few seconds, the door opened to reveal the Element of Generosity herself, looking… well, mostly perfect. Her mane and fur was as immaculate as ever, but if you looked into her eyes you could see the usual graceful twinkle had a strain on it. Rarity was famous for having the odd manic creative episode - those were usually highly productive - but this was something else. Withania had a bad feeling she knew what it was, but this certainly wouldn’t be a good time to ask.

“Ah, Withania, this is rather unexpected,” said Rarity, turning her head left and right as she looked at the earth pony. “I feel like I can’t even remember the last time you were here at the boutique.”

“Haha, yeah, just how it is,” replied Withania. She shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant way. “But I’ve got an event coming up, all very fancy, and I thought I’d dress for the occasion.” Rarity kept looking at her, as though inspecting the plant pony. It took a few seconds for her to reply, but when she did her face turned back into a pleasant, welcoming grin.

“Delightful! Well, I’d be more than happy to help you do just that. Come in!” she said.

Rarity led Withania into the boutique, heading towards the large dressing mirrors at the end of the room. Withania passed by the faceless mannequins that stood dotted around the room, staring back at her blankly. It was rather unsettling in the current mood. Was it just her, or was there a tense atmosphere? The walk from the door to the mirrors was a long one, and Rarity hardly seemed to speak at all along the way. Hoofsteps echoed through the hall in asymmetric rhythm. When she could bear the silence no longer, Withania spoke up.

“Been busy?”

“Yes. Well, in a manner of speaking…” Rarity replied, her voice dropping down into a low rumble, as Withania stopped in front of the glass she had been led to. Around to the sides of the mirrors, large rolls of fabric - as big as she was - lay around, all different colours of the rainbow represented, standing by for Rarity to craft them into art.

“Oh?”

“Well, it’s just rather strange…” The unicorn and the plant pony both looked into the mirrors, seeing each other without having to look directly at each other. “You see, I was meant to be seeing a friend earlier for lunch - a bit of a peace offering, it’s a long story and I won’t bore you with the details - but they didn’t show up.”

“Really?” said Withania, feeling her stomach drop slightly. “That’s unfortunate. Is she upset at you?”

“As I said, I’d rather not get into it. Upset or not, it’s not like her at all to turn her nose up at an invite to a free meal. So I said to myself, ‘Well, that’s alright, it was worth a try, I’m sure she’ll come around.’ And then as I walk through town I bump into Big Macintosh. You know Big Macintosh don’t you, darling? You can’t miss him. Big red stallion, quiet sort, rather hunky if I can be salacious for a moment.”

“I-I do, yes.”

“Are you alright, dear? You seem rather flustered.” Withania looked at Rarity's smile in the mirror. Her reflection seemed to project no warmth. “Anyway, he asked me if I’d seen Applejack. Said he couldn’t find her at the farm. Said it wasn’t like her.” Withania looked into another mirror, which showed Rarity looking straight ahead, still talking. “And that got me thinking. So I went to check in on Pinkie directly, and Mrs Cake said she wasn’t in - that she hadn’t seen her for hours, in fact. Very peculiar. Two friends of mine - two Elements of Harmony, both unaccounted for on the same day.”

Withania felt a tape measure go around her waist, pulling itself tight around her belly. Rarity’s magical aura hung around it.

“Maybe it’s just a coincidence?”

“Maybe, yes. Maybe.” Rarity levitated another tape up. “It’s just…”

“Yes?”

“You’ve got some orange fur on your foreleg.” Rarity said. “And a cute little tuft of pink in your mane. It stands out, darling.”

Withania looked back up into the mirror. She saw blue eyes staring icily back at her. The only sound was of the faint glowing of Rarity’s magic, until Withania let out a long exhale.

“Tell you what. How about I come back tomorro-hurk!”

Withania grimaced as the first tape pulled itself as tight as it could go around her waist, while the second attempted to bind her hooves entirely.

“No, I rather think I’d prefer you stay a little while, at least until you tell me what you’ve done with the others,” said Rarity calmly. Withania struggled hard. Rarity’s magic pushed itself to the limit… but it was, at the end of the day, just tape. And Withania was a lot stronger than she looked. She flexed and bulged her legs as she rolled onto her back, pulling with all of her strength. She caught sight of Rarity’s reflection in the mirror, a definite look of worry on her fair features. “Stop struggling! This is me being polite - you do not want to see me upset.” As she rolled around, Withania managed to sneak her hind hooves behind the mirrors.

“Honestly I hadn’t planned that far ahead!” she said, before giving them a kick. All three began to fall forwards. Yelping, Rarity ducked out of the way. Her concentration broken, the measuring tapes went limp around Withania, who scrambled away just as the glass hit the floor. There was a muted shattering sound as the mirror lay face-down on the floor. Rarity grimaced.

“Oh, you are definitely going to pay for new mirrors, you jumped-up weed!” she said, looking around. “I was going to hand you into the guards, but now I’m thinking of turning you into a modern-art display instead, you… You-”

Whatever dreadful insult Rarity had lined up, Withania never got to hear it, as she bucked the large roll of black cloth directly at her target from the shadows. Rarity only had time to turn around before her muzzle booped against the roll, which proceeded to run right over the top of her. Withania got to watch the unicorn’s head disappear under the rolling mass of cloth and wood, striking to the surface she was pressed to flat and tight against it. Soon it was like the roll had a white band going around the middle, as it continued wheeling along until it hit a wall.

Sighing in relief after a close escape from disaster, Withania went over and examined Rarity. The fashionista went all the way around the circumference of the cloth roll she had been run over by. First thing being first, Withania gently took a bit of Rarity into her mouth, gripping a strip of unicorn in her teeth, before pulling back. Rarity was slid off the side, looking like a floppy white hoop laying on its side. Two blue eyes blinked and looked up at Withania, annoyed.

“I’m sorry about this, really,” said the plant pony. “It’ll all make sense eventually, trust me.” Wanting to try something, Withania gently put the Rarahoop up so that it was like a wheel, and gave her a push. She rolled maybe a couple of yards before collapsing in on herself in a fleshy heap. “Ah, so much for just rolling you home… hmmm, you’re kind of a mess to carry like this, even folded up.” Withania gathered up the loose strip of Rarity, who was now more like an elastic band that had lost its tension. “Hmm, hang on, I can do this better. This will just take a moment.”

She put her head through the loop of pony, so that Rarity was hanging off of her neck like a cross between a necklace and a scarf, before heading upstairs. It took some searching around, Withania not exactly being familiar with the layout of the boutique. “Hope this doesn’t seem like I’m snooping around, I just need to find something - ah, there we are!” Opening a closet door, Withania saw what she had been looking for: an ironing board, with the iron itself sitting on the shelf.

Assembling the items, Withania waited for the iron to heat up. She looked down to see Rarity’s eyes looking up at her pleadingly. “Oh don’t worry, it won’t hurt. Think of it like a very, er, unorthodox massage.” Withania pulled the pony-loop over her head and placed her on the ironing board. Then she took the iron, going up to one end. The steaming-hot iron was pressed into the white furry flesh, letting off a quiet little hiss. The earth pony made sure not to press too hard, or go too fast.

“There, there, see? Just relax, let me iron out all that stress you must have had,” cooed Withania, moving the iron back and forwards. Rarity’s flattened form offered little resistance to the iron, which left a trail of wonderfully smooth flesh in its wake. It was like mowing a lawn, almost, each stroke of the ironing levelling out the crumpled and rumpled Rarity into a pleasingly even state. Even when the iron passed over Rarity’s face, she showed no real sign of discomfort. The big blue eyes had taken on a placid look, like a dog being petted.

Withania went all the way down the length of Rarity, and then flipped her over to repeat the process. All the while she spoke gently at the band of pony. “I bet that must feel nice and toasty now, hmm? Honestly, I’m jealous. All that tension just melting away, right? Just enjoy it…” Rarity had no way of replying in her current state, especially upside-down, but Withania liked to think that the ironing had achieved the secondary goal of calming Rarity down. She was stuck like this until Celestia was done with her either way, of course, but after the underhoof tactics Withania had employed against both her and Applejack, it felt nice to sense some enjoyment.

When she was finished, Withania peeled Rarity off of the ironing board and began folding her up, until she could see the blue eyes staring up at her gently. “There, much better! You look wonderfully cosy like that,” said With, stroking the white face. “So warm and smooth! Now if you settle down and behave, I’ll give you a nice go-over again back home with my own iron, and then we’re all taking a trip to Canterlot where this will all make sense. Yes, you and your friends. See, not so sinister now, is it?” The eyes continued to stare dreamily up, and Withania wondered if Rarity was simply lost in her own little world at the moment. Well, no matter; mission accomplished. Withania found a cute little bag that Rarity must have used for shopping and tucked the owner right inside of it.

Heading out of the Boutique, bag in mouth, Withania considered her remaining targets. A world class athlete, the world’s greatest magic user… after such a near-disaster of an encounter with Rarity, Withania wasn’t sure she wanted another high-risk assignment just yet. It was time for a softer touch…