Cross- And Run-Stitches

by gapty

Rating: everyone
Tags: Other, Rarity, Equestria Girls, Slice of Life
Length: 3287

Moving to Canterlot City, Prim Hemline hopes for a talented person to pass on her knowledge of designing personalised outfits.

Moving to Canterlot City, Prim Hemline hopes for a talented person to pass on her knowledge of designing personalised outfits. Rarity seems to be the best potential, but she can't figure out the reasons Prim does the outfits the way she does.

This fic is part of the A New Empathy-series, but no knowledge of any other fics is required. There are also no SCPs in this fic, hence the lack of the SCP and crossover-tag.

Nonetheless, for anyone following the series, the story is set for the first half before Fall Formal, and the other is set after/during the last chapters of Dashing Through Paranormalities—it still only matters for one reply of Sunset.

This fic was written for Bean's Writing Club with the prompt "Secret Code". Bonus was… "Keeping a Secret" :derpyderp2:

Huge thanks to RB_ for prereading this fic!

Published 2023-02-05 18:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2023-02-05 18:10:00 UTC

Secret Code

“Eureka!” Prim Hemline exclaimed when she saw herself in the mirror.

The outfit was done perfectly. Not only did all the colours, metrics and details fit together like puzzle pieces, but the dress also enhanced a trait of hers—for reasons she couldn’t explain how. She didn’t care though why, just that she figured out the method on how to make it.

Proudly, she left her house and walked towards her seamstress teacher’s workstation, where she was working on her new order.

“I got it! I now know the secret.”

“Really?” Her teacher raised an eyebrow. “Then what ‘secret’ did I have, that my design for your outfit, looking the same as yours, was ‘better’?”

Prim rolled her eyes. For whatever reasons, her teacher acted constantly as if her clothes had nothing special to them, even though both knew that this wasn’t true.

“It’s simple: You vary between straight- and cross-stitches in a specific pattern: 3-1-1-1-6-1-4-1-1-1-3.”

“So? It’s just stitches you don’t see anyway.”

Hence the reason it took Prim so long to figure it out. How did the stitches enhance a trait you encode through them anyway?

“Well, for anyone else, but not for you; and now, also not for me. I get now too why you take so long before making an outfit for a person if it needs to be special: You need to find the correct pattern.”

“I wait a month to decide on a cross and straight pattern?”

Not only that, but it all boils down to the personalised pattern.

“Indeed.” Prim took out a piece of paper. “I also took the effort and figured out your own pattern: 2-1-4-1-1-1-4-1-1-1.”

When she saw a proud smile on her teacher's face, she knew that she had figured it out.

For Prim Hemline, moving to Canterlot City was an unofficial sign of wishing for retirement, which she had tried to postpone as much as possible. Not the retirement in a sense of not being a fashion critic, the opposite. Her intention was for this to be a full-time job, while her previous job of designing of outfits would come to the final rest.

She still loved designing outfits, make specialised clothes for her clients, but it took a huge amount of time, effort and strength, which she couldn’t keep up with also being a fashion critic.

The only reason she still kept making outfits was for a single reason: finding a student worthy of sharing the secret she had to figure out. No one, not a single designer she met, not a single person who came for personal lessons, was able to figure the secret out. Even worse, fashion changes came at such a rapid pace, that the craftment of a single design for a single person seemed to be lost—everyone wanted to be like someone else.

Granted, she might be part of the reason it happened, but she had here and there recognised people who were worthy of being taught in the other direction for a single person; just not good enough for going that deep as she had.

Luckily, moving to Canterlot City seemed to be the right place for finding a worthy student—well, almost. Not long after opening her boutique, she saw a purple haired girl—probably around the age of twelve to thirteen—watching the personally designed outfits at the shop window. With the reception being close to the window, Prim could watch how the girl was staring at the clothes and drawing sketches in a notebook, only to later crumble the paper and throw it away.

She would stay there for about an hour, lose her mind and then stomp away, only to come the next day and repeat the procedure.

Prim watched her curiously. That the girl recognised there was something with the clothes was the first step many weren’t able to do—even when being led by her personally. Prim saw in her the best potential student, one that perhaps could be worthy of teaching the secret she so long wished to pass on.

Only after four days the girl finally entered the boutique and went straight to Prim.

“Welcome to Prim Hemline’s boutique, how may I help you?”

“Good evening, my name is Rarity. I noticed these astonishing outfits at your shop window and I’m in awe. I have always admired your own works before, but seeing these in person is a whole nother league.”

Formal and craftful in wording, a characteristic Prim liked. But she kept her judgment of the girl still neutral.

“So?” She raised her eyebrow.

“And, well—”

Suddenly, Rarity fell to her knees.

“Please, teach me, the unworthy person who can’t get the design as right as you!” Tears formed in her eyes, as the black make-up started to smear on her cheeks. “I have no idea how, I have no idea why, but your clothes, your design, they are grandiose, spectacular, miraculous! I have spent restless nights trying to just mimic what you can create!”

“Just asking me won’t make me tell, not even speaking of teaching you,” Prim replied with a monotone voice.

“You want money? I can give you money, diamonds, gems! Just teach me! Let me be your student, let my need for perfection be satisfied!”

Prim watched Rarity as she let her face fall on her hands and cried. Not a single person was so desperate in figuring out how Prim could do her designs, but she had to remind herself that, just because Rarity wanted that, she could as well be not able to figure out the secret.

“Let me see one of your works then,” Prim said.

“I already brought them!” Rarity pulled out her bag and opened it. “This—”

“Put these away,” Prim interrupted her and stood up from her reception. “I don’t care for any already done outfits.”

“But—”

“The result is not relevant, I care more about the process of creation. I have an accountant employed, your task is to make a personalised outfit for him.”

Rarity’s face lit up.

“For which occasion?”

"Everyday. You’ll be able to use any material and device in this boutique, but you have to do everything only here in my workstation. Not doing any work at your home.”

“I won’t disappoint you!”

Rarity disappointed Prim.

Not in the case of the outfit, or the design, or the cloth making per se. This was all done perfectly, even better than many designers she had under her care before, and her accountant liked it so much that he paid her a good sum for it.

What disappointed her was how little Rarity did to get to know her accountant. Except the body measures, he was someone she still didn’t know anything about, which was a bad sign for Rarity being the right person to figure out the secret.

“It’s absolutely…” She thought of the right word. “Acceptable.”

“Acceptable?” Rarity asked. “But the design, the colours, the—”

“They all fit for his look, but that’s it.”

Rarity scratched the back of her head. “Well, what else are clothes supposed to do?”

Prim’s brows knitted.

“Uhm…” Rarity backed up.

“If you want your designs to match even the slightest with mine, you need to know your client and express something inside him through it.”

Rarity stared at the outfit she created.

“As for you,” Prim sighed, “I accept your request to work here, but this will be only for helping the boutique. As for learning how to design, you failed miserably.”

“But—” Tears filled Rarity’s eyes. “—he loved it.”

“You may get one day another try, although I doubt you’ll be able to do a better job.”

Rarity wasn’t seen around Prim’s boutique anymore. This was expected, as Prim didn’t back down with her words—her accountant even argued with her that she was way too harsh, but all the failed students and the hope Rarity gave her, it broke Prim herself. She took a vacation from fashion criticism for a few weeks, and later on lengthened it to two months when a teenage girl with the name Sunset Shimmer paid her for designing an outfit—hopefully a good distraction.

Whenever someone commissioned her, she made sure that the person knew to appear again over the next few days. Sunset seemed to not have taken it seriously, and had to be reminded of the deal per a phone call.

The girl wasn’t happy when she came.

“Alright, I’m here. Why?”

Prim rolled her eyes.

“What did you expect? I have told you that for personal clothes, I need to know you.”

“You measured me already.”

“If you just want a fitting look, you can go somewhere else. I need to know your character, your hobbies, your wishes. That’s how I work.”

“Then… I want a refund!”

“Only half of it. Stands in the contract.”

Sunset clenched her fist.

“It was expensive!”

“Contract is contract.”

“I just wanted to prove someone better! I didn’t listen!”

“You had the contract signed by your parents too. They should’ve read it.”

“My parents…” Sunset shook her fists, before she took a deep breath. “Nevermind then. How does that work?”

“I’ll interview you. Maybe you’ll show me something. It depends.”

Sunset groaned.

Secretive. Backs up from family questions and goals. Not usable.

Seems popular at her public school.

Strongheaded.

Hobbies: Drawing, reading and playing video games. Very curious nature. Surprisingly mature for her age. Wants to learn how to play the guitar one day.

Weirdness: Occasionally misspeaks “everypony” and “anypony”. Sometimes holds her fingers in a crooked way.

Looks down on others at her age.

No future job plans.

Wish: Standing out.

Not enough information, but she won’t open up more.

Writing these notes down, Prim rubbed her temples and thought. The only thing that she could use somehow for the personalised outfit were her hobbies. For standing out, a rebellious look might fit. But what should it stand for?

Then, when Sunset got tired of the consistent meetings and brought a few paintings she had drawn in hope of it “being enough”, Prim figured it out.

A black leather jacket. Expressing creativity—creative.

Pattern: 1-1-1-2-1-3-2-5-1-1.

Months after finishing the order for Sunset Shimmer, Rarity came back to Prim’s boutique—but as Prim had already told, only hired as an assistant.

However, Prim could see that her rejection of the girl was a too hasty reaction. Clients oftentimes went to Rarity for her to add small additions to the “casual clothes” in the boutique, that are mere products of the current fashion, which made them more satisfied and also brought in more clients. In short, Rarity turned this shop into a small hype with her at the centre.

But it didn’t mean that Rarity was ready. Sure, she could make outfits very fast, in a speed that would make other designers look like beginners, but these were all just soulless designs, only made to look well.

Nonetheless, Prim still hoped that Rarity had the needed talent—the potential might be there, considering the talent at the very young age. That’s why when another client ordered from Prim, she made sure that Rarity could occasionally walk in the workstation and see how she worked.

“That’s weird,” Rarity muttered.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you keeping a note of your client's biography? Why do you need her character, her hobbies, her dreams?”

“Because that’s what my work stands for, Rarity. My clothes are made to express the person wearing it.”

“But that’s exactly what I do too!”

“You do it partially.”

“What do you mean, partially?” Rarity crossed her arms. “Do you want to know how I made Applejack’s outfit?”

“Wasn’t it that farmer girl?”

“Yes, one of my friends. She is honest, work and country loving, so I made sure that her outfit matches the farmer’s style. How is that just partially?”

“Would she wear that everyday?”

“No. Why would she? It was made for the Fall Formal.”

“Then you just fit the outfit to her for a specific occasion.”

“I’m sorry, but what exactly are you expecting from me? It looks like you are trying to make stuff up to not teach me!”

“What I want, Rarity, is for you to understand why it is necessary to know the person and let them shape the outfit for you. You shape both and try to fit them into fitting places and settings, which is fine, but not what I’m doing.”

“Maybe you also have to give,” Rarity grunted and walked away.

Prim Hemline thought for a second of Rarity’s words. Giving was indeed something the girl did through her designs, but that didn’t matter. The patterns are not there to give anything, but to reveal.

Three years later, Prim looked at the shop window Rarity was given the task to decorate. There was something off to it, especially the widened eyes of Rarity seeing it.

Where had she seen that style? It all looked… familiar. It wasn’t Rarity, that’s for sure. The girl was all about elegance and classiness, not the flashing and surreal style the shop windows had now.

Then it hit her. It had the style like in Sunset’s paintings.

For a moment, she wanted to call out the cheating, but then she saw the lowered down posture of Rarity. It reminded her of herself, back then when she was still struggling to find out the secret of her teacher, which affected her own craftsmanship.

That was what Rarity struggled with too. Giving her the task to come up with something for the shop windows, while she knew she couldn’t match Prim’s designs, only harmed the creativity of the girl.

“I don’t know how you did it, Rarity, but congratulations,” she said passing by and walked into her boutique.

Maybe it was time to finally lead Rarity to the right trail.

Prim stood in front of Sunset’s apartment, but in no relation regarding an order. Sunset was confused, but when Prim explained that it was regarding Rarity, she let her in.

“So, what is it with Rarity that you want from me?” Sunset asked, as she gave her a cup of coffee.

“First of all, asking how you broke into my boutique.”

“Uhm,” Sunset’s eyes widened, but she had herself in control. “What do you mean?”

“I ordered Rarity to decorate my show windows, not you.”

“I—I don’t follow.”

“Sunset, don’t you think I can recognise styles? When I had to make your leather jacket, you showed me your paintings.”

“She got inspired by my works.”

“Sure thing, Flanksy.”

Sunset gasped, the first time she broke her innocent acting.

“I want to clarify,” Prim continued, “that I’m not here to take back Rarity’s job, or let her know I know that it was you. What I want is for you to help her figure out why my designs and hers differ.”

“Oh, that. Rarity was complaining how, no matter how much work she puts into designing the clothes, for you it’s never correct.”

“She knows that my designs are still on another level.”

“I can’t see the difference.”

“She can, but she can’t figure out why, so I need you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. What does the leather jacket mean to you?”

“It’s like a part of me. I feel like… like it allows me to express myself.”

“To be creative.”

“Yes, exactly that!” Sunset smiled, before something in her clicked and it faded away. “Wait, how?”

“That leather jacket was made specifically for your creativity. When people see it, when you see yourself in the mirror, you associate your look with being creative. Maybe that is the reason you became Flanksy too, who knows.”

“It tells me and the people around me that I’m… creative?” Sunset's mouth opened.

“More or less. What it does is take that trait of you and enhance it.”

Sunset remained silent.

“You don’t have to understand it,” Prim said. “What I need you is to give Rarity your leather jacket and let her investigate it. Tell her how it makes you feel. Maybe then she’ll get the right trait.”

“Anomalous,” Sunset muttered.

“Excuse me?” Prim asked.

“What you do. It’s… paranormal? Magical? Anomalous?”

“I don’t follow.”

“What I mean is…” Sunset sighed. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll make it as you asked.”

Confused was the only option to describe the feeling Prim got when she saw Rarity’s new design. It seemed to be made for someone personal, but at the same time, it was like there was still something of Rarity herself in it.

“And?” Rarity asked, this time with a smug smile—the first time she ever had one when showing off one of her new designs.

“I don’t get it,” Prim replied.

“Well, that’s because it’s one half doing what you do, and the other half is what I do.”

“What?”

“This outfit here is for Fluttershy. I first wanted to go with Kindness for her, but then I realised that it would counteract with what you do. After all, for Sunset it wasn’t Empathy, so I went with ‘caring’. Expressed in alternating cross- and run-stitches it’s—” Rarity took out a paper and read from it. “—1-1-1-2-1-1-1-3-1-1-2-1. Kinda long, if you ask me.” The last sentence was muttered under her breath.

“So you figured it out.”

“I did. Took me a while to connect it with morse code—and then way too many attempts to not make a mistake sewing it in. I get now why you need to know the person, and why your designs are all so special.”

“So what is that then?” Prim pointed at the outfit.

“That here is Equestrian magic, my Generosity. I never was and never will be able to do what you do, because I can’t not put something of me inside the outfits. I always put something of myself in it, I always share. Me designing clothes for others is the act of my Generosity.”

Prim looked at the outfit. Now it all made sense. How Rarity was never able to figure it out, how both couldn’t find a common agreement. Sunset’s words of Prim’s secret being “magical” had stuck to her, and when Rarity got her own kind of magic already—this was public knowledge in the city—then Rarity couldn’t mimic it, only put into them her own magic.

But she was still able to connect them both, to make something better—that’s what she could now see. Even just the outfit pointed to the caring of the person who’d wear it, how much of an effect it would only have once the wearer has it on?

“I see that you not only figured out what I could teach you, but improved and added your own thing into it. Congratulations, Rarity, you exceeded all of my expectations!”

“Finally!” Rarity exclaimed and jumped, but then caught herself and stood back normally. “I mean, thank you a lot too, Prim Hemline. Without you, I wouldn’t be able to figure out your part in designing the outfits—it also wasn’t like if I didn’t learn anything even outside of this here.”

“That’s true. Even without our magical part in your products, they are an eye-catcher. Do you want clients for your own designs? I could arrange that for you.”

“Honestly, not yet,” Rarity sighed.

“Why?”

“Because everyone who’s wearing these personal clothes ‘ponies up’.”

Prim looked surprised at Rarity. “Really?”

Rarity nodded.

It wasn’t long before Prim retired from making outfits herself. She was satisfied with Rarity not only figuring out the secret, but adding her own “magic” into it. The knowledge was not only not lost, but evolving—something she couldn’t have ever expected.

Also, she had to admit, having instant longer hair was a nice feature, and the pony ears looked kind of cute.