Esquestria: The House of the Sun - A pony cultist experience

Given what you just discovered, within Princess Luna's dream, you decide that you need more information. And the royal summons you received from Canterlot will be the perfect place where you might be able to gather it. There is no better concentration of maps than there. And furthermore, by aiding in their efforts, you hope to learn about the locations they have already searched, so that you might learn where not to look.
You also decide to take Rarity with you. You could use her company and help as a friend. But more importantly, you hope to aid in her career as well. And Canterlot is the perfect place for a hopeful fashionista to debut.
And of course, you will definitely take your daughter to that Sisterhooves Social event!

You take a final look at the draft you made on your work calendar for the month, a small lump forming in your throat as you take in the entirety of your schedule.

You really have your work cut out for you, this time.

But in the end, a part of you whispers that you don't really have a choice, all things considered.

You have received a summons from Canterlot, for reasons that you still do not totally understand. Well, of course you understand those reasons, but you still cannot really fathom what that captain Chalkhoof must have done to warrant this much attention being thrown your way. The only ideas that come to mind is that either that captain was incredibly out of his depth and desperate, before you got to that camp, or that he fell in love with you or something.

You let out a short laugh at that second idea. Focus, Velvet, focus!

Well… as you were thinking, you don't really have a choice. This is not the kind of letter that anypony in their right mind could refuse, let alone if they were a noble pony such as yourself, even if you are a "lesser" noble with a rather… convoluted familial situation.

Not that they know of those details anyways. And since you were (probably) talked up in a report by a member of the Royal Guard, this summons was most likely the greatest bit of meritocracy you would ever be awarded in your life.

The period that they want you to be there, as well, makes you raise an eyebrow. Two weeks still sound odd no matter how many times you read the letter. Either that was the polite way they had to say "we think you did more than your fair share, so even if you come here we don't want you to think that we are imposing anything", or…

Well, or they mean a "we are desperate for help and every last bit of it will be appreciated, no matter how small or temporary".

Thinking that the crown would be desperate for help, especially when it involves efforts in locating a Princess sure sounds odd. But when you think about the slight hints of gossip that you heard from your husband, well…

Enough dilly-dallying. You have committed to going to Canterlot, and as much as a part of your mind is still reeling at the thought that you will have half the usual time to do your monthly assignments, another part also knows that this will be a very particular opportunity to do some other things…

It has been weeks now, almost months perhaps, that you have been toying with a certain idea. You are an administrator, and much as your job involves a good deal of number crunching it has also ingrained and trained in you the duty… nay, the need to maximize the potential of all the endeavors that lie within your reach.

And although you might not know much about the art involved, not nearly as much as you know about agriculture or management that is, you can still recognize untapped potential when you see it.

So, you figure that your sortie in the capital will also be a great opportunity to rectify that.

You walk in without ceremony, the now familiar sound of the silver bell over the door greeting you into the slightly less familiar sight of the interior of the Carousel Boutique.

Less familiar, that is, because its owner makes a point of always changing the interior design. But not just rearranging mannequins or the presentation of the place, mind you, you have realized that she downright changes the whole display with new clothes and themes as the days go by. You drop by every other week and still you always have a lot of new things to notice every time. You reckon that a client who only comes once a month will probably find himself looking at a new store on every visit.

You sometimes wonder where she gets all her inspiration from, while other times you wonder where all the other clothing articles she rotates away go. A slight discomfort comes to you when you think that, probably, many of them go unsold.

And that is indeed an utmost waste. Not only because she clearly has talent, but also because she is your friend.

But that discomfort is nowhere to be seen on your smile, especially not now that you can hear the shop owner's approaching hoofsteps.

"Velvet, darling, what a pleasant surprise," she appears from the deeper parts of the boutique, "I was so focused on something I had in mind that the bell almost didn't register. What can I help you with?"

"I need a little bit of advice, Rarity," you say, the pleasant tone of your voice hiding a wry smile that wants to bubble on your lips, "there is this event of sorts that I'm going to, and the pony who is accompanying me simply must be looking her very best for the occasion."

She looks at you now with more interest in her eyes, a slight glimmer in them as she recognizes the call of a challenge. Rarity gives you an understanding nod and waves for you to follow her as the two of you head towards the deeper parts of her boutique, where the longer dresses and the measuring room are.

You almost think you can hear her mind working as she starts summoning up her ideas and inspiration, already bringing up an soon-to-be-filled blueprint for whatever scenario you are bringing to her.

"I'd be charmed to be of assistance then," she says, leading the way as you walk behind her, "but do tell me more. Where will this event be?"

Her question is broad, but you have already spent enough time with her to know what she means. The conversations that you have with her, whenever you meet, usually head towards the subjects of fashion, of course. Both because you don't particularly think your own life is that interesting, and because Rarity is just so passionate about it that it's a bit hard to avoid. Not that you aren't interested in it whenever it comes up, of course.

But it also means that you have picked up a few things from her. And by a few you mean "a lot".

You might not know the first thing about styles of cuts, the science behind the use of a particular needle, or any of that. But you do know that tidbits of information such as the location, company and even context of an event are of the utmost importance for the tailoring of a particular dress, or the subtle changes that must be made to an already existing one.

That's what stallions don't really get about clothes. It's not that mares have too many dresses, it's just that each and every one of them is a highly specialized instrument, to be used only on the most specific of occasions. If they realized it, then they would understand why using the same dress twice is so very difficult.

But that is beside the point. Rarity is asking you those little details and, just like you planned, you make sure to answer it in the same way you would tell her that the weather outside is sunny.

"Oh, you know, it will be in Canterlot. I have some business to address in the Royal Castle, as things go…" you say nonchalantly.

"Canterlot? The Royal Castle?!"

And her reaction is instantaneous, just like you hoped it would be. You see her freeze for half a second as she walks, ears perking up, and you are sure that you would see a sparkle in her eyes if she didn't have her back to you.

But, you think as you suppress your smile, the conflict in her posture is also clearly visible.

You made sure you said it in a sufficiently nonchalant way for her to think that she shouldn't pry, for her to think that this is a casual event for you, and that it would be inelegant for her to ask any more details about it. You make it sound like you are bored, almost, and that you really are here just for some small advices and maybe pointers for some dress.

Oh, how wrong she is. You double check that your expression is still pleasantly neutral and schooled, of course.

"Yes, the Royal Castle," you almost wave a dismissive hoof as you say it, instead eyeing the overcoat next to you as if it was much more interesting than the subject at hand, "you know, the usual. All the nobles and dignitaries, having to take care of some little things, maybe participate in an audience with a Princess… Dear heavens Rarity, I think Stormchaser would look stunning in this, don't you think?"

You made sure to turn your back to her as you spoke, inspecting one or another mannequin and trying your best not to give her any impression that you are bothered whatsoever.

And you can feel her eyes digging at you, feeling her wave of excitement and suppressed curiosity from where you are standing.

If ever you needed any proof of how disheveled she must be at your off-hoof remark, you needed to go no further than to remember that she didn't answer you a question involving fashion, of all things. And by the way, on the subject of said question, you really do think your husband would look terrific in that overcoat.

"But as I was saying," you finally turn back to face her again, "I need a bit of an advice involving somepony who is going with me."

You made sure to turn towards her rather slowly, but you still caught a hint of her struggling to reassert control over her own face. But you pretend you didn't notice that as you continue to talk.

"You see, there is this mare that I will have accompanying me, to Canterlot," you make sure to repeat that name, seeing her neutral expression balk a little bit every time you say it, "and she simply must look her absolute best for when we arrive there. You know how first impressions work, after all."

You watch as she nods to you, almost mechanically, and you know exactly what is going on inside her head.

But you still give her a push, for good measure.

"And I thought, who better to have such a dress made than my good friend Rarity?" you say, seeing the glint in her eyes double in intensity at that, "this will be, after all, that mare's first debut into nobility, and we are staying there for a few weeks. So I couldn't picture her wearing anything that wasn't made by you."

You finish with a smile.

And you can see her hoofs trembling.

Yes, you can almost read her thoughts like an open book, and you even make sure to blink a few times to make sure that there are no Lantern shenanigans at work.

But it all fits by logic.

As much as you trust Rarity, and you know her to be an honestly good pony, it is no secret that she is completely enamored by the charms of Canterlot and of noble life. You make sure not to go into any of the more sordid details, but some days, when you visit her, you almost feel like you are talking to a mare who is in love when you describe some of your experiences during your early life in the capital.

And you can't rightly say that you don't understand her either. You have no idea how it must be to grow up in a place like Ponyville, but you can imagine how utterly different it must feel when somepony born and raised in this place hears about the bigger cities. Of course, many ponies are happy here, you know Rarity is happy living here at least, but you can see all too clearly that she dreams of greater things.

So you have a very good idea of what is going on inside her head right now. Especially after you simply trotted into her boutique on a sunny day and said that you are going to the Royal Castle for a reasonable amount of time with somepony, and that you would like to commission something from her for this occasion.

"Why, Velvet I'd love t-!", she stops her empathic answer mid-sentence, freezing for half a second as she realizes how much of her excitement is showing. She clears her throat for a few moments, her cheeks turning a slight shade of red, before she tries again. "I mean, I'd be delighted to, darling. Please, tell me all you have in mind for this mare friend of yours."

The two of you reach the measuring room, and her horn glows as she floats her "working kit" towards her, scissors, measuring tapes, a notebook with an elegant quill attached to it, and all sorts of other things making their way to her surrounded by the soft blue of her magic. And you can see in her whole demeanor, from posture to eyes to tone of voice, that she is clearly rearing to go.

The excitement inside of you, at the little ruse you are playing her, almost gets the best of you. You almost just up and say it, the practiced line of "pack your things girl, we're going to Canterlot!" almost jumping out of your mouth when you see the determination in her eyes.

But seeing her like this, with all this excitement about her, you just can't help but want to keep this up a for a little longer.

And you let a little more of your smile show.

"And you think this color would look good with her?" you ask, continuing to spur her on.

"Oh, absolutely darling! You did say your friend's coat is white, didn't you? Well, this will look simply fabulous on her then."

It didn't really take much effort, all things considered.

"Yes, her coat is something close to… I'd say Sweetie Belle's coat, she has this lovely look about her, pure like a diamond," you say, to which Rarity nods in approval. Completely oblivious to yet another hint you just gave her.

You started slowly. A small general description about your "friend", saying that she is an unicorn, slightly shorter than you, so on so on, and soon enough you were picking a base dress from the half-finished bases she had in a back room.

From there it didn't take much for you to get her on the raised podium and in front of the mirror, wearing the very same dress that you two were preparing "for your friend" and making the changes and adaptations even as the two of you talked. Rarity is elegantly mindful about your (very slight and unimportant, thank you very much) "physical limitation", so when you suggested to her that preparing the dress on a mannequin simply wouldn't do she quickly volunteered that she would model for the dress herself, wearing it in a heartbeat and stepping up on the raised podium.

Besides, you are indeed a bit taller than her, and you assured her that your friend is just her height.

A little more careful prodding, followed by the increasingly thorough descriptions about your "friend", and voila, the dress that Rarity is already wearing is nearly completed. A small group of measuring tapes are floating around her, and several color palettes for comparison are waiting in the middle range of her glowing horn.

"And her mane's color?" she asks, bring the rolls of dark blue cloth closer to her again.

"I would say…" you rub your chin with a hoof, as if trying to think on how to best describe the color that is very obviously right in front of you, "the same color as Stormchaser's… No, wait, perhaps a bit lighter? But she always has it wonderfully well kept, so it has this elegant flow to it."

She nods, levitating a few of the rolls away, and bringing the others closer to her, a concentrated intensity in her eyes.

Rarity is certainly struck with inspiration, and once again you are reminded how proficient and focused a pony can be when she is doing what she was born to do.

She is so focused, in fact, that she didn't even realize when you told her that your friend's cutie mark is a precious stone, she just nodded with a professional understanding and floated a small box of gems towards her, initiating a short discussion of exactly what crystals should be used on the hems of the dress. Heavens, she even used her own cutie mark while trying to make a point.

You made sure to be a little bit more elusive on the details you gave, after that, but you had already given up most of your hopes that the mare would figure it out herself.

"Are you sure you aren't going to prick yourself with that?" you ask honestly, as Rarity gently starts sewing another layer into the dress. While she is wearing it.

"Oh please darling, this much I could even do with my eyes closed. Now, you did say your friend is an unicorn, right? Any idea on a head accessory?"

The two of you continue for the better part of… more than an hour in fact, until the final product is right in front of you.

When the two of you finally agree that it is done, both of you look at the large mirror by the wall.

And you see the satisfied expression in Rarity's face as she looks at herself, as well as you notice something else there.

You can see it in her eyes as she looks in the mirror, dressed in a functional, yet absolutely gorgeous, short dress. Perfect for "an important meeting, followed by official business" as you explained to her. You can see herself looking at her own reflection, imagining the day where she will be using one of her own dresses for such an occasion.

You see the determination in her eyes as she pictures that day, which she is sure will happen someday, in which she will finally fulfill her dream. The day when her art will finally be noticed, and when she will dazzle everypony that matters with her mere presence and fine clothing.

It is the resolute expression of somepony with a goal, and the will to reach it. The dress might be a bit loose on her right now. Of course, since it is not meant for her and has not yet been properly fir for the pony who will wear it, but those small details are not enough to bother her even in the slightest.

However, you also see in her eyes the slight tinge of sadness in her face, borne from the realization that her dreams are still so far away. She is, after all, making a dress for somepony else to wear, a pony who will wear it while accompanying you to the very place she daydreams of going to.

She is still, you can see the thoughts forming as her proud smile is marred by a slightly deeper breath, an aspiring fashionista living in a small town, far away from where everything that she wants to be a part of is happening.

Well, you had her excited for a good while, and you think you have already allowed this to go on for long enough now. Much as you enjoyed your idea of a practical jest, and you did manage to trick Rarity into making her own dress without realizing it, you most surely do not enjoy seeing sadness in your friend's eyes, even if it is just a hint of it.

"I think it looks perfect," you say, nodding to yourself and turning around to leave the measuring room, "and I'm sure you will be able to adjust it in time for tomorrow."

You can picture her puzzled expression as you say that, and you hear her turn towards you, even though she is still somewhat pinned in place by the floating measurers and rolls of cloths that surround her.

"Whatever do you mean, Velvet?" she calls for you, confusion clear in her voice, "I'm sure I can have it done by tomorrow, but didn't you say you had your friend's measurements with you? I will need them, or I'll need her to come by this afternoon for me to finish this."

You stop walking at that, discreetly taking a deep breath so as to make sure your expression wouldn't crack.

And when you turn to face her, you look like it is you who have no idea of what she is talking about.

"I need to… give you the measurements…?" you ask, as if she had just told you that it is raining chocolate or some other absurd thing. You stare at her for a few moments, wearing a confused expression as if honestly trying to understand what she means, before you finally shrug, "anyways, don't forget to pack for two weeks. I'll have somepony pick you up tomorrow morning, alright?"

You say as you leave the measuring room, and make quick pace to the entrance of the boutique, before she even has the time to process what you just told her.

It is only a few moments after you close the boutique's door behind you that you hear her excited shriek.

You let out a satisfied sigh at that.