2: The Blind Leading the Blind
Rarity was quite certain she was lost.
Her plan had been so brilliant, too. Step one, go back to the spa to find out what was in that cream she had been doused in. Step two, get Twilight to look up said ingredient in one of her books. Step three, cure blindness. Step four, celebrate with chocolates. It was such a simple, elegant plan, there was simply no way for it to fail.
Unfortunately, she had underestimated the difficulty of actually reaching any place in town on her own. A pair of dark sunglasses disguised her defunct eyes, accessorized by what Rarity could only hope was her purple neckerchief. She knew that her beret was black, because she did not own any in any other color. With an outfit that would keep ponies from asking about the glasses, the designer figured that it would be a simple matter of having her darling cat lead her across town. Opalescence, however, had proven decidedly unreliable as a seeing-eye cat, having squirmed out of her makeshift leash and abandoned Rarity after only a few steps out of the door. Well, I know of a kitty who is only getting dry food from now on, the blind pony thought bitterly to herself as she felt her way across the cobbled streets of Ponyville.
“Hey, watch where you're going!” an annoyed commuter barked at her.
“S-sorry!” Rarity apologized, backing up.
“Ow, you stepped on my hoof!” A new voice rose from behind her.
“I didn't mean, oh my.” In exasperation, Rarity resolved to sit on her haunches and not trample over any more of Ponyville's citizens.
Splash.
Rarity's lip quavered. She felt muddy water soak her hindquarters. The perfect curls in her tail were no doubt ruined. She could feel grainy flecks of mud stick to her coat as far up as her cutie mark. To say this was not Rarity's favorite day would be a severe understatement.
“Hey, cool shades!” Rarity's eye twitched as she heard the voice of Equestria's Best Young Flier come from above her. A gust of wind from wingbeats blew across her face as she heard hooves land next to her.
“Hello, Rainbow Dash,” Rarity said, putting all her wealth of social grace and poise into keeping the edge of irritation out of her voice. The pegasus was a good friend, and she owed her life to her, but she was not in the mood to deal with her antics right now.
“Does this mean that shades are like, 'in' now? 'Cause that's a fashion trend I can get behind!”
A brief vision of the Canterlot elite all dressed in cheesy dark frames passed through Rarity's head. She shuddered. “It is summer, and the sun can get bright this time of year. A pony needs to take measures to protect her eyes.” The irony of making up an excuse about protecting her eyesight to avoid admitting to being blind was not lost on the white mare. “If those measures happen to be fashionable, all the better.”
A part of Rarity was sickened with herself for essentially endorsing something as tacky as dark sunglasses as practical fashion advice. She was sure this would lead to months of pleading for Rainbow Dash to take those awful things off her face. But for now she was committed to the lie.
The pegasus made a ruffling noise with her wings. “I wonder where I put my pair? Under the sofa, maybe? Or wait... did I leave them on my napping cloud?” The sound of her wings became more distant.
A thought came to Rarity. “Wait, Rainbow!” If she could get her friend to guide her, Rarity would be able to make it to the spa. Making it from there to the library was still a question, but one thing at a time. “How would you like to go to the—” She stopped mid-sentence. Rainbow Dash would not want to go to the spa. This was one of the things alongside brushing her mane and using basic manners that Rarity had been trying for years to get her friend to do with less success than her seeing-eye cat idea. If she was going to get the pegasus's help, she would need to get creative.
“I mean, uh, I just heard Pinkie make the silliest bet,” the unicorn said, thinking fast.
“A bet? What kind of bet?” The prospect of competition never failed to pique Rainbow's interest.
Rarity took a moment to think of what bet she could use to get Rainbow Dash to lead her. Just a simple race would not do. The pegasus would leave her in the dust before she even had a chance to follow. So she needed something to slow her down. “How far would you say it is from here to, say, the spa?” she asked, stalling for time.
Rainbow Dash could be heard scratching her head. “I'd call it two hundred, maybe two fifty yards.”
That close? I made better progress than I thought! “Well, I happened to overhear Pinkie talking with that one teal unicorn—Lyra, I think? Anyway, Lyra was going on about this idea of hers to walk around on two hooves. She thinks that with practice and good balance, a pony could make it as far as two hundred yards using only her hind legs.” The best lies had at least some grounding in truth; this was a subject she had overheard Lyra speaking about before. “Pinkie Pie doesn't think it can be done. Ponies just aren't made to walk like that, she says.”
“Pinkie doesn't think it can be done? She stands on her hind legs more than anypony I know,” Rainbow said.
“Well, I think the whole thing is silly, myself. I don't see why a pony would want to try, but...” Rarity paused before delivering the final prod to her friend, “if anypony has the coordination to do it, it would probably be Equestria's Best Young Flier.”
The unicorn could practically hear her friend's chest puff out in pride. She had taken the bait. “Stand back,” she said.
The ruse not only succeeded in getting Rainbow Dash to move slowly enough to follow, but also gave the both of them plenty of room. Rarity could hear ponies cross the street to avoid passing too near to the crazy mare walking around on her rear hooves, sweating and grunting. Rarity could die of embarrassment later at her convenience, but for now she was just grateful to not be colliding with every passerby in the market square.
Rarity could smell perspiration from her friend—apparently this task was physically demanding. She heard the pegasus stumble more than a few times, and quietly hoped that if Rainbow fell, it would not be on her.
“Just... about... there...” said the competitive pegasus through gritted teeth. “And... done!” Rainbow Dash let out an excited whoop. “Oh yeah! Who's awesome? I'm awesome!”
Rarity smiled. “Very, uh, impressive.”
The victorious mare sounded like she was doing a celebratory dance. “Did you see back there where I almost lost it? But then I was like 'nuh-uh,' and I kept my balance like a total boss! I wonder if that's some kind of record, or something. Oh my gosh, I gotta go tell Pinkie!”
“I'm sure she'll be very surprised,” the unicorn said. Doubtless this was going to lead to some confusion and misunderstandings later on, but that was now unavoidable. Rarity had reached the spa, and that was what mattered. “Have a good day, Rainbow Dash.” She was not sure if her words had been heard as she listened to wings flapping away into the air.
* * *
The fashion designer felt her way to the door of the spa and pushed her way in. A voice found her ears that made her doubt for a few horrible seconds whether she was actually at the spa at all.
“Thank ya kindly, girls. I reckon I best get on back to the farm now, while I still got daylight.”
“A-Applejack?” Rarity stammered.
“Oh, heya, Rarity. These two just told me you were here earlier,” the apple farmer said.
“What are you doing here? I never thought I'd see the day that you willingly set hoof in the spa.” Rarity double checked her sensory cues. The air was humid and smelled like conditioner. Either they were really at the spa, or somepony had just taken a shower.
Applejack chuckled. “It ain't like that. I still don't go in fer that pamperin' nonsense.” She paused. “Uh, no offense,” she said, presumably turning to the spa sisters behind the counter before continuing. “I'm here on business. These two are makin' some kind of 'rejuvimafyin' cream' or somethin', and the active ingredient in it is unripe apples. I don't pretend it makes any kind of sense to me, but they're payin' better for 'em than for ripe apples, so I hauled a barrel over.”
“Unripe apples, you say?” Rarity had expected the cream to have been made with some exotic imported herb or something. Something as mundane as apples surprised her.
“I know, don't it beat all? 'Course, I coulda told ya that apples are good for your coat, but usually ya just eat 'em, and ya gotta wait 'till they're ripe to do that. Ain't never heard of squirtin' 'em on somepony while they're still green. Why, I—” The earth pony cut herself off, muttering a mild curse. “Shoot, just look at how low the sun's hangin'. I don't got the time to let myself start talkin' about apples.” Rarity heard her step outside and hook herself into a creaky old cart.
On one hoof, Rarity wanted to stay and ask Aloe and Lotus a few questions, make certain she was on the right track in assuming that the unripe apples were really the cause of her troubles. On the other hoof, however, Applejack knew more about apples than anypony else she knew, and her route back to the farm would take her past Twilight's library. This was likely her best chance to get somepony to lead her to the library.
“Wait up,” she said, moving toward the sound of the wagon's creaky wooden wheels. “I was just about to head to the library. We can walk together.”
The farm pony sounded confused. “Y'are? I guess I figured you meant to head in to the spa to get that mud cleaned off yer backside.”
Rarity silently cursed that mud puddle, and all mud puddles everywhere. “Oh, no, that's just a little mishap. I'll get it cleaned up when I get home. The library can't wait; it's important.”
A low whistle came from Applejack's direction. “Wow. It must be awful important if Rarity is putting up with mud for it. Somepony dyin’ or somethin'?”
Only my career, she thought. “No, nothing like that. I just need to do some research for—uh,” To her dismay, Rarity's mind came up blank for a likely sounding lie. She had been such a smooth operator all day, and suddenly she had a question for which there could be a dozen easy answers. “For a dress,” she finally said. “A dress that I am sewing, and I need to know something from one of Twilight's books. In order to sew it.”
The designer could not see her friend's disbelieving stare, but she could still somehow feel a pair of green eyes regarding her. “...Uh-huh,” Applejack said. “Well, good luck with that 'dress' then.”
Rarity decided it was best to change the subject. “How about those apples? I mean, now you're growing a luxury crop. That's really something, isn't it?”
The wagon gave a sharp clatter as it hit a bump in the road. Rarity did her best to avoid the bump for herself, but her hooves still stumbled a little. “Well, the twins don't use up a whole lot of the crop. That one barrel will be all they need to keep their magic cream stuff stocked all year. Sweet Apple Acres apples are still mostly for eatin', not makin' fancy-smellin' soap. But I can't say I ain't proud that ponies keep comin' up with new an' interestin' ways to enjoy our apples.”
“Indeed. I expect before long ponies far and wide will be smelling of apples when they step out of the spa. Say, I don't suppose you have ever heard of somepony getting squirted in the eyes by an unripe apple, have you?”
The harness of the wagon clinked as the farm pony shrugged. “Can't say I have. I 'spect it'd sting pretty bad if it happened.”
You have no idea.
“Although, come to think of it, maybe that's why Granny Smith needs reading glasses.”
Well, that's less than encouraging, thought Rarity.
“Hey Rarity,” Applejack said.
“Hm?”
“You said you needed to get to the library?”
“Yes. For the dress,” Rarity said, as though reiterating the fib would make it more believable.
“We just walked past it.”
“Aha! Silly me, I'm just not on top of my game today. Good talking to you, Applejack!” The unicorn put on a weak smile.
“Yup! Have a good time makin' yer uh, 'dress,' with Twilight!”
That's a curious way of putting it. Rarity wondered exactly what the farm pony had read into her story. No matter. She would worry about misinterpretations like this later when she could see again.
* * *
Rarity spat a leaf out of her mouth. Surely this building was in violation of some kind of accessibility code or something. Her plan to make her way to the wall and find her way to the door had been thwarted by the thick bushes clustered around the base of the great tree. Her mane was a mess of sticks and leaves. Her beret had been lost at some point, snagged in the mess of foliage. And her haunches were still caked with mud from earlier.
It took a few more minutes of fumbling before the bedraggled mare finally found her hoof pressed against the solid wood of the library door. She drew back and gave it a few knocks.
Strange. That didn't feel like wood. That felt... scaly.
“Ow.”
Rarity gasped. “Oh dear goodness, Spike! I'm so sorry!”
The little dragon spoke in an earnest voice. “Oh, that's okay, Rarity. It's my fault for, um... opening the door so suddenly?”
Twilight called from somewhere inside. “Spike, can you stop by Quills and Sofas while you're out? We're running low again.”
“Aw,” Spike whined, “But Rarity just got here! Can't it wait a little while?”
Rarity gave the little dragon a sweet smile. “Whatever it is she needs you to do, I'm certain it's something important, and a task that only my Spikey-wikey can handle.”
She could feel the blush radiate from his cheeks. “Y-yeah, you're right.” Little clawed feet charged outside. “Have no fear, Spike is here!”
Sometimes Rarity felt bad about manipulating Spike like that. This was not one of those times. She had a pair of eyes to fix today. She took a few steps into the library, careful to test that she would not trip over a discarded book or other assorted piece of clutter that tended to litter the floor.
Twilight must have gotten up to meet her, because her voice came from much closer this time than previously. “Oh my, Rarity, are you all right?”
“Hmm?” She felt a stick fall out of her mane and heard it clatter dryly on the floor. “Oh. Uh, just fine, darling, just fine.” Rarity was silently grateful that she could not see herself in a mirror currently. She would likely die of shock if she could.
“Just fine? Rarity, you're covered in—”
“Books!” the formerly white unicorn interrupted, “I need books.”
Twilight spoke hesitantly. “Well, this is the right place for that. What books do you need?”
“Give me everything you have about unripe apples and ocular health.”
Whatever reservations the bookworm may have had were clearly overridden by a reflexive librarian instinct. Rarity heard heavy tomes stack up in a pile before her. “Wait Till It's Red: an Exploration of the Ripening Process,” she heard her friend mutter as the books dropped. “I Spy My Own Two Eyes, All About Apples: An Alliterative Anthology—I think one of Applejack's relatives wrote that one,—The Blind Leading the Blind: the Definitive Guide to Not Seeing...”
A new problem occurred to Rarity as the stack before her grew. “I don't suppose you have the book-on-tape version of any of these, do you?”
Twilight gave an exasperated puff of air. “It would be a lot easier to help if you told me what was wrong.”
The fashion designer's shoulders slumped. She was not going to get any further unless she let her friend in on her secret. Rarity waved a hoof, beckoning Twilight closer. “Is anypony else here?”
The librarian paused. “No... it's just you and me.”
“Good. Can I trust you to keep a secret?”
“I don't know, Rarity. I mean, of course I can, but remember last time you wanted me to keep a secret for you?”
The white mare shook her head. “This isn't like that. Please, my career is at stake here!”
Twilight hesitated. “Okay. Cross my heart, hope to fly, et cetera, et cetera.”
Satisfied, Rarity leaned forward to whisper at where she guessed Twilight's ear was. “I've gone blind.”
There was a moment of silence. “...Oh. Is that it? I mean, that's the secret?”
A flush of indignation burned across her face. “What do you mean, 'is that it?'”
“Well I already knew you were blind. I thought there might have been something else.”
The flush of indignation was replaced by a sheen of horror. “Y-you already knew?”
“Rarity,” Twilight said, “for one thing, I saw you stumbling through the bushes before you came in. And for another thing, you're wearing a yellow, brown and pink-striped neckerchief.”
“Gyaah!” Rarity tore the offending garment off her neck and stomped it onto the floor. “I thought I had that thing burned!”
“What happened, Rarity?”
The mare shuddered. “It was the Summer Sun Celebration, and I had a couple of drinks in me when I came across this tacky little stand that was selling the most horrible neckwear...”
“No,” said Twilight. “I mean, what happened to your eyes?”
“Oh, right. Of course.” Rarity laughed weakly. “My eyes were accidentally doused in a cream made from unripened apples during my spa date with Fluttershy.”
Twilight's hooves were heard trotting to the other side of the room. “Aha. I have just the book for that.” A cloud of dust made Rarity sneeze as her friend shuffled through a rack of books that had not seen much recent use. “Here we go. So, Your Eyes Have Been Doused In Bitter Apples: A Curiously Specific Dissertation.”
“So wait... you knew I couldn't see, and you still gave me books?”
“Yeah, go ahead and open this one up.” Rarity felt the impact of a heavy book landing at her feet. She nosed the cover open and gave a quizzical look in the direction she believed her friend was in. “Put your hoof on the page,” Twilight told her.
The seamstress frowned in confusion. She did not see how this was going to help, but she played along to humor the other mare. The paper felt dry and just a little bit rough. There seemed to be subtly raised edges in the middle of it. Rarity's mouth began to hang open as she realized she could clearly recognize the raised shapes as letters.
So, you have had an unpleasant encounter with juvenile fruits of the Malus domestica, the text read. Perhaps you just couldn't wait for those juicy little treats to ripen and tried to take a bite. Perhaps you had a round of Bobbing for Apples with a host that didn't quite grasp the finer points of the game. Perhaps you inexplicably fell from the sky and landed face first in an apple tree. Whatever the reason, your eyes have just received a heavy dose of unripe apple, and you want answers.
“Twilight, I can read this! How—?”
“Brayle's Basic Blindscript Enchantment,” Twilight said proudly. “The pages don't look any different, but you can feel the text with your hoof. I've cast it on most of the books here so I can read at night without waking Spike.”
“Twilight, that's... actually, that's fairly impressive.”
“Isn't it?” the bookish mare replied excitedly. “What does the book have to say?”
Rarity ran her hoof along the enchanted script. It took time and concentration at first, but she was surprised at how quickly she adjusted, reading by feel at nearly the speed she could have done with working eyes. “Well, the good news is, it looks like my eyesight should come back all on its own.”
Twilight clapped her hooves together. “That's great news!”
The designer slumped her shoulders. “The bad news is, it won't be for another week.”
A presumably purple hoof patted her on the back. “Oh, I'm sure it will be a pain, not seeing for a week. But if you just take it easy, you'll be back at it before you know it! And you'll have the five of us here to take care of you.”
Rarity shook her head. “No, you don't understand. I have a photo shoot on Friday! I still need to make a new dress for the event, and prepare the Boutique, and I can't do any of that if I can't see!”
“Can't you just ask them to postpone the shoot for a few days? I'm sure if you explained—”
“Absolutely not!” the fashion designer exclaimed. “Nopony can hear of this. If word got out that I was blind, why, I wouldn't be able to get somepony who was freezing to death to wear a scarf! I would be finished!”
“That doesn't make any sense!”
“Nopony. Must. Know,” Rarity reiterated. “You promised!”
“Okay, fine. I won't tell anypony. But what are you going to do about the photo shoot, then?”
The blind mare rubbed her chin. “That Blindscript spell... do you think it can be cast on a sewing pattern?”
“Gosh, I don't know,” Twilight said. “I've never tried it on something that wasn't a book. But I don't see why it couldn't work. After Spike gets back and I deal with a few things here, I'll come with you to your boutique and we can find out.”
“You're a lifesaver, Twilight.” Leaves rustled in Rarity's mane. “Um... in the meantime, though, would it be alright if I used your shower?”
Her host chuckled. “I was about to suggest the very same thing. Follow me.”
* * *
The hot shower did Rarity worlds of good. A stream of steamy water worked its way into her coat, washing away the crumbly cakes of mud. The quiet hiss of the shower head drowned out the sounds of the outside world as she let the spray wash against her ears. Twilight's shampoo and conditioner were not the brand she needed to keep those luxurious swirls in her mane and tail, but at least they smelled nice.
The white unicorn stepped out of the shower a new mare. Still a blind one, but now at least a clean, blind mare. She felt a towel come to rest over her withers. “Oh, I needed that,” Rarity said, drying herself off. “Thank you, Twilight. You're too good for me.” She stepped forward and wrapped her friend in a hug.
A squeaky voice came from the hallway. “Great gallopin' goosechasers! I thought my sis was just givin' me a line of horseapples!” Apple Bloom's twangy accent was hard to mistake.
Spike's voice followed shortly after. “I went and got the Crusaders, like you asked, Twilight. The new quills are on... your...” The dragon suddenly became very quiet. “...desk.”
The librarian's voice resonated through Rarity's forelegs. “Thank you, Spike. Tell them I'll be down in a minute.”
“Yeah. Sure,” Spike said darkly. His footsteps could be heard stomping down the wooden staircase.
Rarity released her embrace, furrowing her brow in confusion. “Now what was that all about?”
“You know, I really have no idea.”
One of the things a pony might not think about while they have two functioning eyes is the difference in difficulty between going up a set of stairs while blind and going down them. Going up stairs, while certainly more challenging than simply walking on level ground, is relatively easy and painless compared to going down. Each step is a leap of faith, trusting that there will be a solid step somewhere in that void you put your hoof. You do not get to find that solid step until you have already committed your weight to it. If instead of finding a solid step your hoof finds, say, a little sister, and your guide is half a second too late to warn you of your mistake, unpleasantness is the only possible outcome.
Rarity found herself in a pile of three fillies, two mares and half a dozen books.
“Ow! Rarity, you're on my mane!”
“Oh, sorry darling, my hoof is caught in somepony's tail...”
“Sweetie Belle, can you move your horn? It's jabbing me in the—”
“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! My wing!”
“Mmmf! Mm mmf-mf mh fmmmh!”
“Oh, goodness! Apple Bloom, are you all right?”
“Blech... soapy.”
It took a few minutes of bruised knees and pulled tails before the pony pile was disentangled. Rarity sat at the bottom of the stairs, absently rubbing the bite she had received just beneath her cutie mark.
“Is everypony okay?” Twilight asked.
She was answered with unenthusiastic grumbling.
“Okay, but nothing serious, right? Bones are where they should be, nopony's bleeding?”
More grumbling.
The librarian clapped her hooves together. “Excellent. So, I understand you three have a letter to write to the Princess?”
Bruises were immediately forgotten as the Cutie Mark Crusaders all started talking about their adventures at the same time. Rarity could only pick a few words out of the din. Eggplant... Mister Hooves... a real deep hole out in the forest...
“Wow,” said Twilight. “It sounds like you had quite a day. Spike, can you help these fillies write a letter? I need to go help Rarity with a dress.”
He made a growling noise.
“Spike, what has gotten into you?”
Rarity got a prickling sensation on the back of her neck, like somepony was staring at her.
“...Nothing,” the little dragon sighed. “Come on, girls, let's get a scroll.” A stampede of little hooves followed his footsteps into the next room.
The proprietor of Carousel Boutique stood up, uneasily testing the ground before her. “What has gotten our dear Spike so upset, I wonder?”
“Me too,” said Twilight. “Here are your sunglasses.”
“Hey sis! Wait!” Sweetie Belle's voice rang from the other side of the library. “When we get done with our letter, can I come and help you with your dress?”
Rarity frowned. “Sweetie, I'm going to be very busy, and I don't think I'll have time to entertain your friends.”
“No, it'll be just me. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo have to go home. I promise I'll be good! Please?”
“Well,” Rarity said, pushing her sunglasses onto her muzzle. “I suppose I don't see why not.”
“yyyyYYYYEEEEEEEAAAAAAaaaahhh!” Pinkie Pie’s excited squealing became familiar with the Doppler effect as she rolled past the library on something with small squeaky wheels.
Scootaloo's voice squeaked in protest. “Was that—?” She scrambled past Rarity and Twilight and out the door. “Pinkie, that's my scooter!”
* * *
“Look out, Rarity, there's a—”
“Ow.”
“—a root,” Twilight finished her warning a moment too late. “This isn't working. How did you even make it to the library?”
“By falling in a mud puddle, accidentally trampling little fillies, and stumbling through your bushes,” Rarity said.
“Right.” Her friend paused in silence for a moment to think. “Here, what if you grab my tail?”
“Excuse me?”
“If you take the end of my tail in your teeth I can guide you by feel, and just lead you that way.” A few strands of hair tickled Rarity's face.
She hesitated. “I don't know, it seems a bit...”
“It's either that, or another mud puddle.”
Rarity bit at the tail in front of her. “Vfery whell,” she said through the hairs.
Perhaps her hearing had become a little bit sharper to compensate for the lack of sight. Perhaps, as a bit of a gossip herself, she was just attuned to picking up whispers. Perhaps a couple of ponies simply were not being as quiet as they thought they were. Whatever the reason, Rarity heard a pair of voices just at the edge of hearing.
“Well yank my tail an' call me a mule! Wouldja look at that?”
“Holy sheep shanties, AJ! I thought you were just full of it!”
“Shh!”
The white unicorn spat her friend's tail out. “Did you hear that just now?”
Twilight's hooves stopped. “Hear what?”
“I could have sworn I heard Rainbow Dash.” Rarity swiveled her head around, despite the futility of the action.
“I don't see her anywhere. Actually, there's not a whole lot of ponies out at all right now.”
“Great,” she said, grabbing her friend's tail again. “I'mf not jus' blind, mnow I'mf hearingk voifes, too!”
A few minutes of cobblestones passed underhoof. Twilight's tail was mostly flavorless, though it had just a little bit of saltiness to it. Every few steps it would gently tug Rarity to the left or right, guiding her around obstacles like potholes and street curbs.
“Fank you, by va mway.”
Twilight stopped. “What was that, Rarity?”
The fashion designer let go of her tail to speak more clearly. “I said thank you. You're a much better guide than Opal.”
Her friend suppressed a giggle. “Opal? You tried to get your cat to lead you across town?”
Rarity pouted. “Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. By the way, that reminds me, can we stop by the markets? I need to get a bag of the driest, scratchiest cat food I can get my hooves on.”
* * *
“This one?” A rattling noise came from a piece of paper as Twilight held it up.
“What does it look like, dear?” Rarity nosed through her desk drawers, wishing she had kept better track of where she put her patterns.
“It looks like a dress,” the librarian said helpfully.
The seamstress' ear flicked in irritation. “What kind of cut does it have? What length is the hem? Does it gather in the back?”
“Umm... I don't know, medium-longish-shortish, and maybe?” The prized student of Princess Celestia knew a lot of things about a lot of subjects. Dressmaking was not one of those subjects.
“Put it away, I'm sure that one's not it.” Rarity had expected her friend would simply cast her Blindscript spell on all of her designs and she would be ready to start sewing in a matter of minutes. However, as Twilight explained when they got there, Brayle's enchantment was a complicated and time-intensive spell. They would be at it all week if she were to try and enchant every one of Rarity's patterns. It frustrated the fashion designer to no end knowing that the pattern she needed could be right under her hoof and she could not tell.
Rarity pulled a wrinkled sheet of folded paper out, mostly at random, and showed it to her friend. “Tell me what this one looks like.”
“It looks like a—”
“If you say it looks like a dress, I cannot be responsible for what I might do, darling.”
“It, um, has some straps on the forelegs, and it's all ruffly.”
The pattern was balled up and tossed in the dustbin. Or at least in the general direction of the dustbin. Without the ability to see, Rarity's magic was highly inaccurate. “Rrrgh,” she growled, “we're never going to find it like this!”
“Wait a minute.” The sound of something heavy scraping across the floor came from Twilight's direction. “I think I found it. Let me cast the spell on this one, and I'll show you.”
The air in the boutique began to swirl. The unique smell of ozone filled Rarity's nostrils as a high-pitched buzz began to ring in her ears. Waves of magical energy resonated in Rarity’s teeth and horn. She sometimes forgot just how much power her friend had at her command.
The wind began whipping harder. Rarity flinched as an airborne bolt of fabric flopped against her side. The buzzing noise dropped in pitch, becoming a low rumble that rattled the floor beneath her hooves. The blind unicorn had more than a passing concern for the structural integrity of her home.
As the shaking and the noise subsided, Rarity took a deep breath. “You do this on all of your books?”
“Well, it doesn't work on some of the spellbooks. Some enchantments just don't play well with others,” Twilight said. “Here, tell me if this was the pattern you needed.”
The blind mare took the paper offered to her and spread it on the ground, running her hoof across its lines. She was pleased to find that the Blindscript did, in fact, work on sewing patterns. The phantom ridges were still warm to the touch from the freshly cast spell. They spoke through her hoof, telling her of cut lengths, and seams, and hem lines.
Faint heat brushed across Rarity's cheeks as she recognized the pattern. “Um, Twilight,” she said, “this is lingerie, dear.”
Embarrassment gripped her friend's voice. “Oh! Oh my! That would explain why it was locked up in the closet! I'll just, uh, put this back, then.” The racy design was pulled away and re-folded.
“What's lawn-jurr-ay?” asked a filly's voice.
Two grown unicorns simultaneously let out a squeak of surprise.
“Sweetie Belle! You're here already?” Rarity had expected her sister to take at least an hour or two writing her letter.
“Well, I had to go help Scootaloo chase Pinkie Pie down and get her scooter back, and then we had to apologize to Miss Golden Harvest for crashing in her garden, and then by the time we got back to the library, Apple Bloom and Spike said they already finished the letter,” her little sister said. “What's lawn-jurr-”
“It's a boring grown-up thing, like tax returns or pinochle,” she bluffed.
“So you two were up here, in the middle of a bunch of your designs, playing cards with tax returns?” Sweetie Belle asked in confusion.
“Yes,” answered Twilight, awkwardly trying to play along. “Trump card is home equity. Do you have any runs?”
Not missing a beat, Rarity picked up the ruse. “Alas, I haven't. Fiscal solvency bid opens at fifteen. Dealer takes Tax Code. ...Would you like us to deal you in, Sweetie?”
Rarity could hear Sweetie Belle's hair swish back and forth as she shook her head. “I thought you were gonna make a dress.”
“Indeed, I was, we were just waiting for you.” The fashion designer stood up as an idea came to her. She grabbed a pattern from her drawer. “But first, a test, to see if you're ready.” Rarity unfolded the pattern. “What kind of cut does this have?”
Her sister thought for a moment. “That's a U—no, a V-cut!”
Excellent, she remembers at least some of what I've taught her. “Very good.” She pulled another pattern out. “And how long is the skirt on this one?”
“Is that a trick question? I don't see a skirt on that one!”
Rarity cackled. “I can't get anything past you, can I? Now, one last test. I want you to look through this drawer, and find me the pattern for a yoke-cut summer dress with a mid-length gathered skirt. You have ten minutes. Go.”
The little filly scrambled past her sister and dug into the drawer, excitedly hunting for the pattern.
“Wow, you're good,” Twilight whispered to Rarity.
The fashion designer grinned. “I do my best, darling,” she hissed back.
Sweetie Belle produced a continual series of crashes and thumps as she dug through drawer after drawer. Rarity winced at the noise more than once. “Dear, you are being careful with that chest, right? Just because it's hardwood doesn't mean it's built for-”
Creeeeea—snap!
Rarity decided that was a tree branch. A tree branch had definitely just snapped in the wind, and some trick of acoustics had made it sound like it came from the location of her priceless sapphire-encrusted hardwood chest. Twilight's sudden gasp and Sweetie's utterance of ‘Oops’ were no doubt completely unrelated.
“Just keep looking, dear,” she said through gritted teeth.
A few more tree branches creaked and groaned and bashed against each other before a filly's voice began competing with the rustle of a piece of paper. “I found it! I found it!” Little hooves trotted proudly up to Rarity as she felt a pattern laid in front of her.
“Twilight?”
“On it.” The pattern levitated away as the wind began to pick up inside the Boutique once more.
Rarity grabbed her little sister and pushed her toward the stairs. “I have a special assignment for you, Sweetie.”
“What's Twilight doing with your design?”
“That's not important. Now, do you remember when you went and organized my sewing room and put all my fabric in order according to color?”
Sweetie Belle's voice dropped into a guilty tone. “Yeah, you said never ever to do that.”
“Indeed, I did,” Rarity said. “Today, I want you to ignore what I told you and organize every single bolt.”
It warmed the mare's heart to hear the earnestness in her little sister's voice. “You do?” The building shuddered as Twilight's spell intensified. “She sure is making a lot of noise for 'nothing important.' Do I need to remember my earthquake drills?”
Rarity shared her sister's concern. “It's nothing, dear,” she said, nudging Sweetie forward. “Let's put you to work.”
* * *
“Come on, Rarity, you need to get out and get some fresh air,” Twilight's voice chimed from behind the locked door of Carousel Boutique.
“No time for fresh air, darling. I've got so much work to do on this dress.” Rarity fumbled across her desk, searching for her discarded pair of scissors.
“So that's why I could see you through the window sitting by yourself sobbing silently into a bolt of cloth for the last ten minutes?”
A flare of magic drew the shutters closed. “I. . . it's part of the creative process!”
Twilight's hooves scraped against the door. “I think your creative process could do with a little sugar intake. Come on, it's a Pinkie Pie party, those are always fun.”
Rarity's stomach growled. After nearly burning her house down this morning, she had discovered that being unable to see increased the difficulty of cooking considerably. All she had eaten the whole day was a piece of fruit left in the bottom of her ice box. “Every time I leave the boutique, I risk somepony finding out that I'm blind. Maybe you could bring me back a cupcake or something?”
“I don't think so,” Twilight said. “Besides, if you're worried about rumors spreading about your blindness, what do you think will happen when ponies start talking about how you've shut yourself in? I can see the Gabby Gums article now. Formerly Friendly Fashionista Becomes Hideaway Hermit—What's She Hiding?”
Rarity unlocked her door and pushed it open. “There is no Gabby Gums anymore, but you've made your point. Let me get my sunglasses.” She picked up a scarf from the floor. “Before I make an utter foal of myself, can you please tell me whether this is the blue scarf I think it is, or something hideous?”
“Do green checkers count as hideous?”
“Ick!” She made a face as she threw the scarf as far away from herself as she could.
* * *
Either Twilight was getting better at leading, or Rarity was getting better at following, because they made it to Sugarcube Corner much more quickly than they had the day before.
“Oh no, I almost forgot!” Twilight said. “Go on in without me, Rarity, I left something back at the library.”
Rarity opened her mouth to protest that she could not find the door, but she heard her friend's hooves galloping away before she could say anything. Not terribly keen on repeating the bush crawl she had gone through outside the library yesterday, she elected to sit down—carefully checking for puddles this time—and wait until Twilight came back to lead her in. If somepony noticed her and asked, she could always explain that she wanted to catch her breath after the walk over before going inside.
Blindness had sharpened her other senses. The rich, sticky scent of pastry surrounded her, reminding her growling stomach that she had skipped breakfast this morning. The even sidewalk beneath her was well-swept and clean. She could feel the tiny ridges of texture left in the surface of the concrete that were there to keep it from becoming slippery when it rained. The air was cooler today than she remembered it being yesterday. Judging from the fact that she felt no heat reflecting off the sidewalk, Rarity guessed that it was overcast today. But if there were a storm planned for today, she would not have heard Rainbow Dash's voice drifting through an open window of Sugarcube Corner.
“Okay, so I'd buy that Twilight was that way, but Rarity? I dunno, maybe we weren't seeing what we thought we were seeing. I mean, don't you remember how she was over what's-his-face?”
Rarity tilted her head. She could not be completely sure—were they talking about her?
Applejack's drawl answered Rainbow Dash's voice. “I do, an' after meetin' what's-his-face, I can't hardly blame the gal if she gave up on the rougher—” The voices of her friends were drowned out as a couple of fillies rushed past Rarity, giggling and squealing.
A few lines of the conversation were lost before the young ponies moved on. “...sent Spike off on some kind of busywork just as soon as she got there, so they could be alone when they were 'makin' a dress.' Now, I don't much like ta be a gossip, but I think I might've let somethin' slip when I ran into my sister. Spike was takin' her and the girls to the library to write a letter or somethin'. Apple Bloom told me later she caught 'em makin' a dress in the shower. An' then Dash and I saw 'em makin' a dress all the way to the markets.”
“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash said. “The tail-thing.”
“Ain't never seen anythin' like it.”
Rarity suppressed a gasp. Her friends suspected her! Applejack and Rainbow Dash had seen Twilight guiding her around town, and now they knew she was blind!
“Oh my.” Fluttershy's voice was so soft that it barely reached Rarity's ears. “Well, she did seem very distracted yesterday, I just never guessed it was anything like that. But I guess it makes sense. I saw Sweetie Belle this morning, and she said they were playing with lingerie when she got there last night.”
“Now, I'm happy for 'em and all, don't get me wrong, but they oughta be more careful with fillies runnin' around. There's a few things I don't wanna have to explain to Apple Bloom just yet.” Rarity pictured Applejack talking to her little sister. ‘Now sis, I don’t want you hangin’ around Rarity no more, on account of she’s a horrible blind pony now an’ she might accidentally step on ya.’
“So, is that what the party's for?” Pinkie Pie's voice was full of energy, as usual.
“How should we know, Pinkie? You're the one throwing it.”
“Well, yeah, I am, but right now it's just an all-purpose 'It's Thursday!' party. If it's a different type of party, though, I could bake some purple and white cupcakes, and hang a big banner that says 'Twirit-'”
“I think if they haven't told us about it by now, they probably got a reason, and it wouldn't be fair to 'em if they found out we knew.”
“I agree,” said Fluttershy. “They probably want to find a way to break the news to Spike before they tell anypony. Poor Spike, he'll be so upset.”
Poor Spike, what will he do when he learns the object of his affections is a blind old hag?
“Rarity, why are you still out here?” After straining to hear her friends inside, Twilight's voice right next to her sounded almost like she was yelling.
Rarity flinched. “I, uh... I couldn't find my way to the door,” she admitted.
“Oh no, I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking! Here, let me help you.” Twilight guided her by the hoof and led her inside.
They know, they know, they know, the unicorn thought with a grimace. No! They only think they know. You can bluff your way out of this. “Thank you, Twilight,” she said grandly. “And my, what a lovely shade of lavender you are today. Still can’t be bothered to brush your mane, I see, Rainbow Dash? And Pinkie, my dear, you are as pink as ever!” Are they buying it?
“Thanks! Happy Thursday!” cried Pinkie Pie exuberantly. Rarity felt a tray shoved in front of her. “Have a cookie! The red ones have jalapeños in them.”
“Oh, uh, thank you, Pinkie, but I'm not that hungr—” Rarity's stomach rumbled in protest. Oh, my odds are fifty-fifty, aren't they? she thought as she did her best to find a cookie that felt as not-red as she could. “I mean, thank you, I think I shall.” The crumbly treat levitated into her mouth.
The hostess gasped. “Wow, I thought I was gonna have to eat all the red ones myself!”
Hot flames licked the inside of Rarity's mouth. Watery tears streamed from beneath her shades. “Mmm,” she croaked, forcing a smile on her face. “They, ah, definitely have a zing to them. May I have a glass of water, please?”
“Okie dokie!” The sound of ice rattling in a pitcher was followed by a rim of cold glass pressed against her nose. Not trusting her magic to be accurate enough to lift it without spilling, Rarity took the glass between her hooves. She was certain she heard a hiss of steam as the ice-water hit her tongue.
Rarity allowed herself a moment to clear her throat before she tried to speak again. “So what did you go and get at the library, Twilight dear?”
“Nothing, actually,” she replied. “I was going to get a book, but I must have left it at your place last night.”
“And what were you doing at Rarity's last night, huh?” challenged Rainbow Dash.
“Making a dress with her,” Twilight said. “We were at it pretty late. I never realized how sore that kind of thing can make your back.”
Rarity nodded. “Mm, yes, you need to stay good and limber. I usually stretch before I start.”
A fit of coughing and sputtering came from the left. “Oh no, Applejack,” Pinkie said. “Did I chill the punch too much?”
The blind mare raised an eyebrow. “Anyway, Twilight darling, the book you were going to bring. It wasn't, by chance...” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “the one about apples?”
Twilight whispered back. “Yes, that's the one. Why are we whispering?”
“Because I am trying to keep the number of ponies who know that I can't see as low as possible,” Rarity hissed. “That in mind, why would you bring a book about how blind I am to a party?”
“I was going to consult with Applejack on it. She knows a lot about apples. Besides, Rarity, these are our friends. They're not going to go around town sharing your secret with everypony.”
“That may be, but I-”
Pinkie Pie's breath smelled like sugar and strawberry syrup. “Why are you two whispering? Ooh, is this a party game? Hey everypony, we’re playing a new party game!” The baker took a deep breath.
Fluttershy cheered. “Oh, the quiet game! I'm good at this one!”
A few moments of silence passed. Rarity could not discuss the importance of secrecy with her confidant while everypony was trying their hardest to be quiet. Her hoof found the tray of cookies, and she absently popped one in her mouth.
Twilight shouted, “Wait, that's another—”
Crunch. “Gyaaah!”
“-red one.”
Pinkie Pie giggled. “You two lost!” She gasped. “Oh my gosh, I lost!”
Fluttershy's voice came softly. “That's okay, Pinkie. I... oh, no!” her voice rose to a squeak. “I spoke!”
“Well shucks!” Applejack said. “I never thought I'd see the day Fluttershy loses the quiet game!”
Rainbow Dash let out a breath she had been holding. “Yes! Hind-leg walking expert and reigning champion of the quiet game! Is there anything I can't do?”
“How about keepin' yer yap shut?”
“Uh, I think I just proved I'm the reigning champion at that!” Plates rattled as the competitive pegasus engaged in a victory dance.
“Fer pony's sake, get off the table! An' what the hay is with those sunglasses?”
If a smug expression were audible, Rarity definitely heard it radiating from Rainbow Dash's face. “Shades are in style now. Ask Rarity.”
Oh Celestia. She could not contradict her while wearing a pair on her own face. “Yes,” Rarity said weakly. “They're the most fashionable thing since... since platform horseshoes.” Her tongue wanted to leap down her throat to stop the heretical nonsense she was spewing.
“Well shoot,” said Applejack. “I don't reckon I'll ever understand all this fashion hooey.”
* * *
The rest of the party went well enough. Rarity found that the cake had a significantly lower risk of being a red cookie, and so managed to avoid burning her mouth any further. For some reason, Rainbow Dash could not stop giggling whenever Rarity mentioned the phrase “making a dress,” but she was sure it must be some kind of inside joke.
Pinkie Pie clapped her hooves. “Wow, Rarity, when did you get so good at Pin the Tail on the Pony?”
I've been getting a lot of practice lately. “I guess I'm on a lucky streak.” Rarity yawned. “I should probably get back to my boutique, though. Twilight, would you be up to helping me with my dress?”
Applejack and Pinkie grew quiet. Rainbow Dash muffled a snicker.
“I would love to, Rarity, but I need to sit down and have a talk with Spike. Would you believe he bit me this morning?”
Rarity gasped. “Sweet little Spike?”
“It didn't hurt,” Twilight said, “but I think it'd be best if I get this sorted out before we have Spikezilla Invades Ponyville Part Two. Maybe Fluttershy can help you with your dress?”
“That's a fantastic idea. Fluttershy dear, would you like to accompany me to my boutique?”
A frightened yelp came from Fluttershy's corner. “Um, I don't know... I mean, won't Twilight mind?”
Twilight laughed. “Why would I mind? I would love for Rarity to have somepony helping with her dress. Why, it would be great if everypony could help.”
Rainbow's snickering went silent.
Rarity smiled. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I only have enough space and equipment to handle one or two helpers at a time. Maybe three, but it would get crowded.”
Applejack sputtered as she swatted something feathery out of her face. “Consarnit, Dash, put those things down! That's disgustin'!”
Rarity ignored them, giving Fluttershy the best pleading expression she could manage while wearing dark shades and having to guess which direction she was in. “So how about it, Fluttershy? It would mean a great deal to me.”
Fluttershy whimpered. “Well, I guess if it's that important to you... Okay, Rarity, I'll make a dress with you.”
* * *
Fluttershy was not as easy to follow as Twilight. The timid pegasus did not just speak quietly. She also walked quietly, breathed quietly, and most likely thought quietly. Rarity could not think of a good way to get her friend to guide her by a wing or a tail without confessing her disability, so she did her best to follow the pony-sized hole in the noise around her. Fortunately she was becoming an expert at navigating the cobbled roads without tripping too badly.
A confident smile spread across Rarity's face as she caught the scent of lilacs. The previous day at the market, she had bought out June Bug's entire stock of the flower, and paid her triple the price in exchange for a promise not to sell lilacs to anypony else for a week. She had then hung the flowers over the door to her boutique, making it the only place in Ponyville that smelled like lilacs. It was unbecoming of a proper lady like herself to indulge in self-congratulation, but she couldn't help but grin at her own resourcefulness. “After you, my dear,” she said, pushing the door open.
“Thank you,” came Fluttershy's muted reply.
Rarity followed her friend inside. “Would you like anything before we get started? Tea, perhaps?”
Fluttershy nickered nervously. “Um, yes please. I could use something to drink.”
Rarity dug through her cupboards, feeling the shape of all of her cookware with her hooves. She wanted to be certain she was using a kettle and not a saucepan or a bucket of oats. She did not need a repeat of this morning's breakfast. After pouring water into what seemed to at least do a good impression of a kettle, Rarity paused and rested her hoof on the edge of her stove. It was a type of stove made for unicorns, so it did not have an ignition switch like an earth pony stove. Without being able to see, Rarity might turn the stove on with a flash of her horn, or she might turn on the coffee machine, the dishwasher, or short-circuit her refrigerator.
“Is... is everything okay in there, Rarity? I don't really need tea, if it's too much trouble,” Fluttershy called from the main room.
Rarity waved her hoof. “It's no trouble at all, darling, I'll just be a moment.” Here goes nothing. She squeezed her face into a grimace and let her horn light up with magic. She winced, waiting to hear something malfunction catastrophically. Nothing seemed audibly broken. Rarity waved her hoof over the stove top and felt heat rising from the enchanted firestone element. She breathed a sigh of relief and set the thing she assumed was a kettle on the stove. She spent a few minutes testing carefully by taste and smell to make sure she was getting tea out rather than pepper or baking soda. By the time a shrill whistle came from what she was relieved to find out really was a kettle after all, Rarity was ninety percent certain that she was making tea and not boiled raisins.
So long as she initially picked it up with her mouth, Rarity found she was able to at least trust her magic to balance a tray as she carried the tea and cups out to the main room. “Here you are, dear,” she said, hoping to provoke enough of a response from Fluttershy to get an idea of where she was in the room. She did not want to trip over her while carrying hot tea.
Rarity felt a pair of hooves take a cup from the tray. “Thank you, Rarity.” She heard a gentle sip. “It's... um, fruity.”
Fate had clearly landed in the ten percent that read ‘boiled raisins.’
Fluttershy cleared her throat. “So, um, how long have you and Twilight been,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “making a dress?”
Rarity set the tray aside, not really wanting to partake in a cup of boiled raisins for herself. “Only since yesterday. I have been encountering... obstacles, shall we say, and Twilight has been kind enough to help me out.”
A long span of silence came from the pegasus, broken only by soft sips from her cup. “Is she... is she very good at it?”
Rarity laughed. “Oh, Celestia bless her heart, she tries, but no. I wouldn't call it her special talent. You on the other hoof, I understand that you are rather gifted in that area.”
Fluttershy coughed and sputtered. “I—I wouldn't say that at all! I mean—”
“Oh, don't be so modest! I am truly lucky to have somepony like you to help me make this dress. Speaking of which, we should really get started. There are only so many hours in the day, after all.” Rarity stood up.
“Y-you mean, right now?”
“Well, finish your tea first, of course. We don't want to get any stains on the fabric. I'll just get started over here on the sewing machine. The patterns I need you to cut are over there on the table.” Rarity knew the layout of her boutique well enough to know which direction to point for the table.
The timid pegasus was silent for a few minutes. “So... we're really just making a dress?” A note of relief painted Fluttershy's voice.
Rarity tilted her head. “Of course, darling. That was what I said we would be doing, wasn't it?”
“And... and Twilight has just been helping you make this dress?”
“Again, as I said earlier, yes. Why do you ask, Fluttershy?”
Rarity heard her friend's wings shift awkwardly. “Oh, um, no reason,” Fluttershy said. The unicorn turned her head and raised an eyebrow in what she believed to be her friend's general direction. “Well, see, the girls seemed to believe that it was some kind of euphemism, I think.”
The seamstress dug through the drawer in her sewing desk, searching—very, very carefully—for her sewing needles. “A euphemism for what, dear?”
Fluttershy let out an embarrassed squeak. “N-nothing! Please, just forget I said anything!”
If she wanted to press her on it, Rarity was sure she could get an answer from Fluttershy, but it didn't seem important, so she simply shrugged. The motion caused her to prick her hoof on the needle she had been trying to find. “Ow!”
“Are you all right, Rarity?”
“I'm fine, darling. Just a little pinprick, is all.” Rarity sucked on her hoof, tasting the metallic tang of blood. Blood, sweat and tears, she thought to herself with an amused chuckle. I haven't suffered this much for one of my designs since the Gala! She shuddered as she recalled the wearable catastrophes she had made for her friends the first time Hoity Toity had come to Ponyville. Surely even blind she could do better than those.
“Is this right?” Fluttershy must have held up the piece she had been cutting for Rarity to see.
She held out her hooves. “Bring it to me, please.” A piece of fabric landed in them a moment later. It was a difficult task to tell the shape of a piece of cloth just by feel, but fortunately the seamstress' talent for design left her with excellent spatial reasoning. “You'll need to leave a notch right here,” she pointed to the edge of the piece, “so that it will fold right.”
“Oh, okay.” Fluttershy's wings kicked up a gentle breeze as she returned to the cutting table.
The two of them made significant progress on the dress as the hours passed. Rarity was thankful that Fluttershy had agreed to help. Without her, she did not think she would ever have finished the dress in time for tomorrow's photo-shoot. Rarity resolved to treat her friend to something special at some point as thanks.
A yawn escaped Rarity's throat. “What time is it, dear? I'm so tired I can hardly see the clock.”
“It's a little after eight.”
“So soon? Oh my, how the time flies! You should go on home, darling, you've been more than enough help.” Rarity gathered up her thread and needles.
“Are you sure?” Fluttershy asked. “I don't mind staying longer if you need me.”
Rarity waved her hoof in a shooing motion. “All that's left on the dress is a few sequins and buttons. I can manage that on my own. Now go on, you have animals to put to bed, don't you?”
The door creaked open. “Okay. Good night, Rarity.”
“Thank you ever so much for your help, Fluttershy. Good night!”
Rarity spent a while longer—she could not tell precisely how long—putting the finishing touches on her dress. When she fell asleep, it was not the first time she had fallen asleep in her workroom. In fact, she kept pillows and cushions lying around for just such a purpose. As she drifted off, she dreamed she could see her dress. Soft robin's-egg blue, with trim the yellow color of sunshine.
“Oh, it's pink, my favorite!”
Rarity snapped to consciousness. Panic and disorientation filled her head as she tried to open her eyes. It took her a moment to remember that not seeing was now normal for her. Waking up to Pinkie Pie's voice, however, was not. “Pinkie?” she said, her voice a bit scratchy from sleeping on the floor. “What—how—?” A number of questions jostled for position in Rarity's mind. What are you doing here? The door was locked, how did you get in? Why do I smell chimney soot? But she quickly sorted out her highest priority. “What is pink, darling?”
Her friend giggled. “Well, I'm pink, or I was just a minute ago. And that hairbrush over there is pink. And this dress is pink. Oh my gosh, is this the dress you're using for your big photo-shooty thingy?”
Rarity's chest tightened. “No, no you must be mistaken. The dress I made was blue, with yellow trim. I am sure of it.”
“I don't see a dress like that anywhere.” Pinkie gasped. “Oh no! Maybe I've gone color-blind!”
Panic churned in Rarity's stomach. “Let's, uhm, test that theory, shall we?” The seamstress' mind racing, she hobbled over to her collection of fabric. The ones her sister had said she organized. She pointed to the red end of the spectrum. “What color is this?”
“Alabaster,” Pinkie said. “And the one next to it is amarillo. Then azure, then baby blue, beige, burgundy...”
Rarity's heart sank to her hooves. She had assumed Sweetie Belle had arranged the fabric according to spectrum. If it was alphabetical instead... “Pinkie,” she said tersely, “I need you to tell me precisely what color the dress on that ponyquin right there is.”
Pinkie went silent for a second as she studied the dress. “I would call it a brightish-pinkish shade of pink. And the trim is light green. Maybe more of a chartreuse. Chartreuse-ish green? Lightish greentreuse? Ooh, raisins!” Sloppy munching noises came from the previous day's discarded tea set.
Rarity's face twitched. She tried to think of some scenario in which chartreuse and pink would not be a teeth-grindingly obnoxious combination. Perhaps if everypony in Equestria were to suddenly go blind... Oh, but Applejack would never part with that many unripe apples.
“Mm, good idea boiling them like that. It makes the raisins nice and squishy!” Pinkie licked her lips loudly. “Anyway, Twilight sent me to make sure you make it to your photo-shoot-a-majig on time. She said—” She pulled out an eerily accurate impression of Twilight's voice, “'If Rarity just follows your voice, there's no way she can get lost!' I don't know what she meant by that, I mean, how can you get lost between here and the park, but then, she says funny stuff like that all the time. 'Where did you even get that cannon? Jelly beans have nothing to do with Stephen Hawk Wing's astrophysical theorems! This shouldn't be scientifically posibiiiiiillle!' That must be why you love her so much!” Rarity felt her friend nudge her toward the door. “C'mon! You don't wanna be late, do you?”
“B-but—” Rarity stammered. But the dress is hideous! But I haven't brushed my mane! But there is no way under Celestia's blue sky that this isn't going to end in utter disaster! “But I don't have my sunglasses!” she finally managed to say.
A pair of sturdy frames settled on the bridge of her muzzle. “Easy fix,” Pinkie said. “Now let's go!”
* * *
It was only a short walk to the park from Carousel Boutique. The shop was at the edge of the park, after all, and Rarity could probably have seen the setup crew from her home if she were able to see at all. As it was, Twilight's choice in guides had been a wise one, as Rarity had no trouble at all following the sound of Pinkie's motormouth.
“...because I won, so I was the bestest at telling spooky stories, and so then Applejack said, 'Twahlight, git mah rope,' and Twilight said, 'And the shovel,' and then they dragged me out of the barn by my tail, and oh, hey look! We're here!” Rarity stopped as she felt Pinkie’s tail brush against her nose.
“Ah, Rarity! It's good to see you made it!” A cultured accent tickled Rarity's ears.
She let her mouth gape. “Fancy Pants? What are you doing here?”
Fancy Pants gave a polite laugh. “When my dear Fleur told me where she would be modeling and for whom, why, I couldn't resist the excuse to drop in on the most influential unicorn in the industry!”
The flattery slid right past Rarity as she grappled with the first part of what he had said. “F-Fleur?” she stuttered. “Fleur de Lis is modeling my dress?” Now that she thought of it, it made sense. There were only so many ponies with the measurements Rarity had been given for her dress.
“Oui,” said a soft, Prench-accented voice. “I often do ze modeling for Mizz Finish's photography.” A floral perfume filled the air that Rarity had only smelled once before in Canterlot.
“Miss Fleur, I-I am honored! I had no idea you would—”
“Look out, Rarity!” Pinkie shouted and tackled her to the ground. As she fell, she heard a heavy piece of equipment come crashing to the ground where she had been standing. Rarity coughed as her friend rolled off of her. “Didn't you see my tail twitching?”
“Mon Celeste! Mizz Rarity, are you all right?”
Rarity wheezed, “Never better.” Somepony's hoof—she wasn't quite sure whose—helped her back up.
She heard Photo Finish's unmistakable dialect berating one of the workers. “You nearly crushed de talent! Und that thing iz expensive! Clean it up and be more careful!”
Applejack's farm pony drawl sounded from behind Rarity. “Rarity, we need ta talk.”
Rarity raised an eyebrow. “Applejack? I didn't expect to see you here, darling. This sort of thing isn't usually your cup of tea.”
Pinkie Pie trotted off, striking up a conversation with one of the workers. “Did I ever tell you about the time my friend Twilight became vice-mayor?”
“This ain't about yer photo-shoot,” said Applejack. There was a hint of irritation in her voice.
“I say,” Fancy Pants said, “Is this the dress? It's certainly a departure from your usual style.”
Rarity tried to snatch the dress away, but her hoof only found air. “Oh, that thing? We don't need to go with that. I could run back to my boutique and grab something more appropriate.” Like a khaki sweater-vest. Or a paper bag with eyeholes.
“Rarity!” Photo Finish's harsh voice turned in Rarity's direction. “Iz your friend Flootershy coming today?”
“I don't think she is,” Rarity called. “The poor dear's been a bit camera-shy since she retired.” She turned her head in the last direction she had heard Applejack's drawl. “Applejack, I'm a little busy at the moment as you can see, can it wait, dear?”
“Gol'durnit, Rarity, this is important! Now, I don't like ta go nosin' into other ponies' personal lives, but—”
“...and so I told everypony, 'Omigosh, Twilight just had the bestest idea ever!' and we all went and cleaned up the litter...”
“...whatever you an' Twi are goin' through, I just don't think it's fair of ya to drag poor Fluttershy into it.”
“Zis dress... It is very pink, non?”
“...but then Miss Mayor fired her the next month because she accidentally filled Town Hall with custard.”
“Now, if'n ya fancy Twilight, well then I'm happy for ya, I am. An' if yer sweet on Fluttershy, I can hardly grudge ya fer that, either. But I don't reckon it's very upstanding fer ya ta lead 'em both on like this.”
“Everypony to your places! It iz time to make... de magics!”
Rarity's jaw worked. “Stop. Hold on, back up. Applejack, darling, what did you just say?”
“I said ya can't be datin' both Twilight an' Fluttershy at the same time!”
“You think I'm—” Rarity's face burned with a deep flush as everything finally clicked together. The strange conversation at the bakery, Spike's unexplained moodiness, Fluttershy's reluctance to help. “I am not... dating my friends!”
“Oh? What are y'all callin' it these days? 'Making a dress' was the last one I heard.”
“I am blind! That's why I've been having Twilight and Fluttershy over to help me! Without being able to see I—” Rarity made a strangled yelp as her brain finally caught up to her mouth and jerked it shut. The park went silent
Fancy Pants cleared his throat. “Rarity, did you just say you were blind?”
The 'most influential unicorn in the industry' shifted on her hooves. “I...” Lie, Rarity, she thought to herself. Lie your gorgeous face right off! “That is to say...” Say, 'As a matter of fact, I snog Twilight and Fluttershy every night!' Lie till your tongue turns blue! Lie like a cashmere rug! “Uh...” For Celestia's sake, lie like your career depends on it!
Rarity hung her head. “It's true. I had an accident at the spa this Wednesday, and I have been unable to see a thing since.” The fashion diva grimaced, waiting to hear the sound of her livelihood crumbling apart. She wondered if they would set a torch to her boutique immediately, or if they would be polite enough to let her pack a bag of things first.
Fancy Pants spoke in an astonished tone. “So, you mean to say you made this dress entirely without seeing what you were doing?”
Rarity nodded. “I had help, but they only did what I told them. I am the one responsible for that... travesty.” She pointed her hoof in the direction she guessed the dress was in. “Oh, I am a fraud! I am a hack! A phony! I am—”
“You are extraordinarily gifted,” interrupted Fancy Pants. “This dress is incredible by any standard. To think you were able to make it without seeing... I am extremely impressed!”
Disbelief washed over Rarity's features. “You are?”
A gleeful noise came from Fleur de Lis' direction. “It iz like I am wearing a watermelon! C'est bien!”
Applejack pawed at the grass in confusion. “So hang on. Yer sayin' ya ain't got a thing with Twi or Fluttershy?”
Photo Finish snapped impatiently. “Are we going to stand around making googly eyes at each other all day, or are we going to have a photo shoot? Fleur, get in front of de camera! You! What's your name? I don't care, get out of de shot!”
An agreeable murmur broke out among the ponies present at the photo-shoot as everything resumed motion. The click and whir of the camera provided punctuation to Photo Finish's shouted commands. Makeup artists and hairstylists constantly bustled among stagehands and technicians. A succession of ponies, most of whose voices she did not recognize, shook Rarity's hoof in congratulations.
Like the previous sessions with Photo Finish, this one was over surprisingly quickly. Rarity heard the graceful hoofsteps of Fleur de Lis approach her as the stage was broken down. “Mizz Rarity, zis dress is simply ze most wonderful thing I have ever worn! It breathes so well, what fabric did you make it out of?”
The seamstress shook her head. “The fabric isn’t anything special, just plain cotton.” I think, she neglected to add. With the mix-up in her fabrics, the dress might have been made of tinfoil for all she knew. “The airflow comes from the gathered seams in the back.”
“How practical!” Fleur exclaimed. “Oh, perhaps it is rude of me to ask, but would it be possible for me to keep ze dress?”
“Now Fleur,” Fancy Pants gently scolded, “Miss Rarity needs that dress for her summer line.”
Rarity raised her hoof to her chin. “How about this. My eyes will be all better in a week, and I will want to see for myself what I have made. If you and Fancy Pants come visit me for tea next Friday, I would consider it more than worth the price of the dress.”
Fleur made a delighted squeal and threw her forelegs over Rarity’s shoulders. Fancy Pants cleared his throat. “I believe that sounds like a fantastic idea. Now, come along, Fleur. We don’t want to miss our train. Adieu, Rarity.”
“Rarity!” A set of hooves thundered across the park, accompanied by Twilight's voice.
Rarity turned her head as Twilight's hoofsteps drew near. “What's wrong, dear? You're panting, did you run the whole way here?”
“Rarity,” Twilight said breathlessly, “I just figured out what had Spike so upset! He thought you and I had started dating!”
* * *
Dear Princess Celestia,
Spending a week blind has taught me some unexpected things. Firstly, and perhaps most importantly, I learned that housecats make for terrible guide animals. This is a lesson that I could have learned with fewer bruises if I had thought to simply ask Fluttershy about it.
In fact, there are a great many things that could have gone better for me if I had just trusted my friends to help me from the beginning. I had thought that stubborn pride was only Applejack's vice, but it seems I am not entirely immune to it myself. When you are in trouble, your friends can and will help you, but only if you open up to them.
When you lie and mislead them, on the other hoof, it leads to misunderstandings and problems that could have been easily avoided. On a strangely related note, I understand that dark sunglasses have come into popularity up in Canterlot. For that I must offer my deepest and most profuse apologies.
I have also learned that ponies are capable of overcoming obstacles that seem impossible. With just a little help from some good friends, a pony can put together a dress without ever laying eyes on it, or walk from one end of a town to the other without seeing the cobblestones beneath her hooves, or even just read at night without waking up a nearby friend.
After a week of not seeing, I am glad to finally have my vision back again. There are so many things that it would be a shame not to see again. Sunrises. My friends' faces. My own fabulous coiffure (if you will excuse a bit of vanity). However, if my loss of vision had been permanent, I would still be okay, because I know I have five of the best friends a pony could ever ask for here to help.
Your faithful subject,
Rarity
This was what Rarity believed she had written. However, as she lifted the blindfold from her eyes, she saw nothing but inky smears and illegible scratchings on the parchment in front of her. She shook her head and got out a new parchment. She dipped her quill in the inkwell and took another try, this time without the blindfold.
Dear Princess Celestia,
I have learned that a pony is capable of doing a great many extraordinary things without seeing. Writing letters is not one of them...
