It was time for River to take some time off and regroup. The loss of her degree in such a fashion was simply too much of a shock for her to go on as normal. She needed time to emotionally recover, but this was different from the other breaks she had taken over the years.
All those other times, she had plans to return to the exact work she’d been doing all along once she was finished resting. Her body might have been idle, but her mind never was. But now she wasn’t entirely sure how she was going to proceed.
“Why ever would you throw that away?”
Yngvlid protested in her straightforward but caring way as she helped River sort through her supplies and older creations.
“It was never well-received. Surely you remember? Some reviews were downright scathing.”
River shuddered at the mere memory of it.
“But why get rid of it? Some ponies won’t be satisfied by anything you make. If you threw away everything that got a nasty review, then your shop would be totally empty.”
Stockholm was completely right, and under normal circumstances River would have agreed. Under normal circumstances, River could take the heat. But she didn’t quite realize that River wasn’t in that mood right now.
If anything, it was a reminder of just how much hostility she’d been subjected to over the years.
“Then it will go in the ‘maybe’ pile,” River set the controversial garment aside, not wanting to press it further.
But she was also a little bit annoyed, not particularly with her friends but with her uncertain situation. She was hardly ever uncertain, even at her lowest point. The last time she really felt anything like this was when she was a filly, before she came up with her business at all.
In true River fashion, though, she still had some convictions.
“You must understand, I am not quitting.”
She asserted.
“My craft, that is,” she added. “How could I? It would do me no good to suppress whatever creative vision comes my way. My mothers raised me much better than that.”
At this, she smiled a little, feeling a touch of confidence thinking of her family.
“So, surely this is a mere spring cleaning, as you say?” Yngvlid asked. “Not…more? If not your craft, is there something you are giving up?”
“That’s precisely the matter, I cannot be sure.”
River’s glimmer of confidence quickly replaced itself with that old uncertainty.
“Perhaps I will downsize. Decline the media attention, the interviews and speeches. The fashion shows. Close the shop and do private commission work.”
Stockholm gasped in horror at the thought of River closing her shop, her lifelong project which was practically her baby. Yngvlid was just as shocked, but approached it with more logic.
“Then how will you attract new clients? The very creatures who need these garments may never hear of you this way.”
“There’s word of mouth, I suppose—“
Ding ding! The front door bell to her mother’s boutique suddenly chimed.
“Oh, your moms aren’t home!” Stockholm exclaimed. “Boot, baby, could you see who it is?” But she clearly intended to check for herself as she left the room.
River turned back to Yngvlid. “I know it isn’t ideal. But I can’t imagine what else I could do.”
Suddenly, they heard Stockholm’s voice chirp out:
“Oh! Hi, Obsidian!”
River’s head suddenly jerked up as if she’d been caught in the beam of a flashlight.
A mare she had not seen in the flesh in months. And yet, despite her better judgment after their last conversation, somepony she thought of often, a memory she longed for.
Her ears twitched as she tried to listen to what she had to say, but the mare’s voice was unusually quiet.
“Well I’m not quite sure if she wants to see—er, if she wants more company right now. She’s awfully busy,” Stockholm answered more audibly. “I can ask!”
“Please, let her in,” River called out before she could do so, getting up to meet her guest herself and dismissing Stockholm from her role.
And there she was. Her oldest friend, Obsidian Stone. The young mare stood with her head bowed meekly, almost looking like she was holding in tears but not in her usual dramatic, whimpery way.
“Hello,” River started off. “Welcome.”
“Oh, Morgie—I mean, River, I—“ Obsidian reached out a hoof, her foreleg arched like she wanted to hug her, but then pulled it back. “I heard what happened. Auntie Rarity told Mama and she told the rest of us—it’s just awful! They took your degree!? I just can’t imagine how you’re feelin’ about now.”
This was the kind of reaction she’d been getting from most of her cousins and aunts, outrage and sympathy on her behalf. She appreciated it, she really did, having so many on her side.
“Thank you,” she said, but she was still a little distrustful. She expected Obsidian to come up with some kind of defense for the school and how River could have done things differently. It was what happened last time.
But one question lingered on her mind.
“You came all this way? From the Academy? Surely you’re missing nearly a full week of classes with such a trip.”
“Well…”
Obsidian fidgeted shyly.
“Some students may have gotten expelled for participatin’ in the protest.”
River was honestly shocked to hear this. Obsidian!? At a protest!? She wouldn’t have believed it in a million years. But despite their conflicts she also didn’t know Obsidian as someone to lie, not in all their years knowing each other.
And she knew how hard Obbi had worked and dreamed to get into that Academy, almost as much as her. How they’d both jumped for joy at each other’s acceptance letters. So she was overwhelmed with sympathy, especially knowing how badly her own loss had stung.
“Oh, dear! Expelled? That’s simply awful!”
She wrapped a concerned claw around Obbi’s back, but then removed it.
“Ahem, please, do come in.”
River didn’t intend this as a show of forgiveness, although she did long to have her best friend back in her life. But she was anxious to know more about this protest, especially from somepony who had been there. And find out why this pony was there.
“I’m simply appalled at how low the Academy has stooped,” she said, indignant but still hurting from the loss. “For it seems the protesters were making perfectly reasonable demands! Every critique that Miss Tourmaline made was positively true.”
Obsidian’s ears perked up at the mention of Tourmaline’s name. “How much did you watch?”
“I couldn’t bear to view the news segments,” River replied. “Or hardly the papers.”
The only reason she was so curious now was because she knew she didn’t have to hear what the administration was saying about her this way.
“But I did read one article. One which quoted Miss Tourmaline and an anonymous source, who credited myself and my business as a source of inspiration for the demonstration.”
Obsidian grinned sheepishly despite herself. “Well, I can see why she would be inspired. I mean, after that speech—“
“Oh, curse me! We shouldn’t keep the girls waiting any longer than we have.”
River interrupted her before she could let anything slip, motioning for Obbi to follow her to the back of the boutique. As they went further, Obbi noticed boxes scattered around, which was so unlike what anyone in this family would do. They were usually so neat, even with their hoards of jewels.
And then she saw River’s two other friends, Stockholm and Yngvlid, stacking some of them, and she felt the same pang of guilt she felt seeing them at River’s Alumni Weekend speech. Knowing that they had supported River so much more in her work.
“Miss Obsidian! Hello!”
Yngvlid came up to her and bumped heads with her the way yaks bump horns as a greeting, while Stockholm waved from across the room.
“Hi! Again!” She giggled.
Clearly they had no ill feeling towards her, so it was irrational for Obsidian to fear they would. Or to think that River would invite her into her home if she didn’t care for her as well…even if she hadn’t been the best friend lately.
Besides, River was dealing with a crisis right now. That was what mattered. She just needed friends to be there for her and it was no time to worry about who was the best one.
The crisis in question was worse than Obbi thought.
“Oh dear, you’re not throwing these away, are you?”
She looked down at the boxes that were clearly divided into separate piles, like what one does when they are trying to cut down.
“I have not decided,” River said, slightly annoyed at having to explain it again. “Not all of it, certainly. I simply need to reevaluate my priorities.”
“Reevaluate? Like a career change?” Obsidian was crestfallen as she looked between Yngvlid and Stockholm, who both looked a mix between disappointed and uncertain.
“It’s ‘cause they took your degree, isn’t it?” Then she became more angry, thinking of what the Academy had done. “Eau de Rose doesn’t know a lick of what they’re doing! You can’t let ‘em tell you you ain’t qualified! They can’t take your talent!”
“Quite frankly, that’s the least of my concern,” River assured her. “I’ll get my degree back without issue. My mothers have found an excellent lawyer who sees this for the horridly illegal publicity stunt it is. And,” she added, “such a suit will likely undo the expulsions of most, if not all, of the students present.”
Such an assurance would have made Obsidian feel better before, knowing that she could get admitted back into her dream school and continue on as normal. But now it didn’t feel good enough. Not after all that creatures like River and Tourmaline had been through, not after the Academy had shown its true colors to all of them. It just wouldn’t feel right to go back.
“I know I’m talented,” River continued. “You’re absolutely right, that will never cease to be. But every time I try to share it, some bloody shit like this is thrown at me!”
She held her head in her claws like the very thought of it gave her a headache.
“How can I go on like this if this is all that will happen? I simply need time. I need to clear my mind, and my closet. And you all are such dears for helping me so far.”
“But Morgie—“ Obsidian wanted to tell River all about how this was her dream. How she’d always wanted to show her ideas to the world and it had finally come true. She knew that perhaps better than anyone.
But did she? She certainly hadn’t done a very good job of showing it. Not until the protest, and that wasn’t really her doing anyway. A pep talk from somepony like her wouldn’t help. She already knew this herself so she decided to shut up before River could point it out to her.
“Has this one been sorted through?”
“No, you may go right ahead,” River answered without more than a brief glance. “I believe that one has mostly smaller items, like scraps. Much of it could go in the garbage pile.”
When Obbi opened it, she saw River was right. This box was filled with mostly scraps. Hardly any would be salvageable for a dress, but she had a specialty for accessories and knew that even a single loose sequin could become part of something beautiful.
And then, at the very bottom, she found something familiar.
A bracelet of blue velvet intertwined with silver and gold thread and studded with beads, and another of tinsel and pink yarn. Two items she thought she’d never see again.
“Whatcha find there?” Stockholm asked over her shoulder.
“This…” Obbi’s voice came out choked with emotion. “This was mine.”
“You all may take what’s yours, I surely have some of our belongings mixed up—“
River stopped and turned to look when she heard the emotion in Obbi’s voice.
“Are those…”
“Our old friendship bracelets.”
The dragony suddenly dropped what she was doing and turned around fully, walking over to Obbi cautiously like a dragon who had just discovered an abandoned horde.
“I haven’t seen these in so long.”
Yngvlid and Stockholm weren’t sure how River would react to this. They had heard bits and pieces about her fallout with Obsidian; not very much, but enough to know that the two of them could be going through a million different emotions right now.
“They’re gorgeous, and so intricate! You both truly have an eye for detail, whenever you made these,” Yngvlid led the way with some of her optimism. “River, yours fits you so well! To a tee, as they say here.”
“And yours goes with your bow, Obsidian!” Stockholm added. “You got each other’s vibe just right.”
“It was so long ago…We were only little girls, barely before my molt.”
River took hers and contemplated it, then looked over at Obbi’s.
“I knew you loved…love, still, shiny trinkets, and of course the color pink. It had to be personal as much as everything I create. It took all of my claw and horn work to get the pattern just so, with all the…”
The bracelet was stitched with hearts, a symbol of a closeness they had so long ago.
Obbi sniffled a little, consumed with sentimental nostalgia, though no tears fell just yet.
“And I knew you always had expensive taste. You like the finer things in life—and deserve ‘em too! So I worked real hard to find only the best materials. Like the kind of thread that glitters, and the kind of beads that look like pearls. And for the bracelet itself—“
She reached over and stroked the deep blue velvet, touching River’s claw in the process.
“Well, I couldn’t find any other way, but I cut a tassel off one of Auntie Rarity’s dresses for it.”
The young mare expected River to be upset at her for ruining a piece of fashion, and she feared she was as she initially responded.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
But as Obsidian looked up from her shameful downward gaze, River looked touched. Honored, even.
“Oh my, you rebel! I never knew you could do such a thing! Why, you told me it was scrap fabric!”
“Remember how your mum reacted?” Stockholm laughed. “There was a whole investigation! You and Boot got practically interrogated!”
“Mummy was about to turn full detective on us,” River chuckled too. “She only refrained after Mama convinced her to let it be. By Ardor, how did I not make the connection?”
Obbi also laughed along, more at ease about the tassel but still remorseful over something else.
“If I could go and do that then I don’t know why I would’ve thought you were wrong for speakin’ against the system. It’s a similar thing, I guess, breakin’ some rules for a lil’ creativity.”
“I still can’t believe you were present for the protest!” River added. “Even at the risk of your own career!”
At this information, the two creatures who weren’t present for the initial revelation had a million questions, about what she heard, who she talked to, any other insider scoop she had.
“Of course, River, ‘cause I love you.”
It had been too long since she had said those words to River, yet they rolled off her tongue like she still said them every day. As she reached out to hold River’s claw, she almost became emotional again, especially as they made contact and River didn’t pull away.
“Lots of creatures love you too. Tourmaline, for one, is real inspired by you. She’d not only love to meet you one day but she also wants to get into inclusive design like you. We were talkin’ and she said she wants to open a hat shop for mules and horned creatures too!”
“You are friends with this Tourmaline?” Yngvlid inquired excitedly. “If she opens this shop, do let me know! My cousin Yigrid would adore it, and many other yaks from my home.”
“I’d buy from her as well!” Stockholm concurred. “I know there’s a market for curly horns too.”
“Think of the options! Already there’s much more for longer coats,” Yngvlid beamed. “The first dress you made for me, River, I still adore it!”
“Ooh! I remember that!” Something suddenly caught Stockholm’s eye. “The one that looked like this, right?”
From the box, she pulled out a scrap of gold, glittery fabric.
“Oh, yes!” Yng took it from her.
“Of course I kept it all, for you kept begging for size adjustments as we grew up. I suppose it’s one of my finer creations if you couldn’t bear to outgrow it,” River teased good-naturedly.
“But of course,” Yng said playfully as if she refused to fall for the silliness, but then became earnest. “It was the first ever dress not from Yakyakistan that fit me. Everything else I wore before was far too tight, no fit for my coat! And they were far too plain.”
Yng stared off into the distance as if recalling a memory.
“I was far too plain.”
She continued, “I did everything I could to fit in when I first arrived, but I was no longer myself. I was lucky to have one friend, who may not have understood fully but did learn to stand up and tell the, er, neighsayers, as you call them? To bug off…“
Acknowledging Obbi, “…much like the ponies protesting at Eau de Rose…”
“But, along with Yigrid, you girls were some of the first who truly knew what it was like. The dress fit me perfectly and had the style I wanted to show to Equestria—sparking and bold, not plain or dull. I learned to love this part of my home before knowing you, but you helped me love it even more. I always loved that you were helping other creatures feel the same.”
Stockholm felt such a strong connection with Yngvlid’s story that she was inspired to add her own perspective.
“Like me, too! Plenty of ponies know me for all my history knowledge, but I was also just the ‘weird’ girl. If they did know about my job then maybe they thought I talked too much about it, and if they didn’t, they just thought I looked weird. And I know I’m smart, but I want to be pretty, too! I always felt like it came so much more easily to most ponies.”
River was still taking it all in, but she found another scrap in her box that brought up a memory.
“Well, this dress was certainly gorgeous on you.”
“YES!” Stockholm snatched it up quickly, but she was just so thrilled. “I remember this! I loved that fashion show so much! And everypony was there! I got so much applause even when my face was covered in pimples and I was kind of clumsy. I was beautiful and I felt beautiful because I was a part of all this.”
She leaned in towards River with a smirk, waving a finger like she was sure there would be a ring on it in the future.
“Boot definitely thought so too, so thank you for that.”
River couldn’t help but laugh at this, such an unexpected impact she’d made, but this wasn’t even the end of it.
“Do you remember all the fashion shows we watched, Morgie?” Obbi asked, holding her claws and looking her in the eye. “How bad we wanted to be models like those mares on the screen? How bad YOU wanted to be a model? And now here you are, makin’ that dream come true for many. Yngvlid, Stockholm, and so many more.”
Now River couldn’t even respond, she was so overcome with emotion but this time it was the positive kind, not the kind that broke her down but a feeling that built her up.
“Th…thank you girls. Thank all of you. I didn’t know…how much I needed to hear this.”
She took a moment to let herself feel it all as her friends gathered around to embrace her, each of them being an integral part of her career in some way.
“You’re right,” she said once she began to gain her composure. “You’re absolutely right. This is what it was all about. So no creature would have to feel like I did. Like we did.”
She looked specifically at Yng and Stock.
“I only wish I wasn’t the only one, that I could more easily shop from others instead of making everything for myself. It’s exhausting, dealing with that, and the press, and—“
She didn’t want to get into it all again.
“I’d like to be the one on the runway for once, wearing someone else’s design. I’d like more time, to do more with my life. Perhaps find love, start my own family…”
She looked around at the other three ladies.
“…and simply just be with my friends.”
She pondered a little.
“But I’m not sure I want to downsize. Not as much as I thought. I had truly forgotten how important this cause was, and I cannot give it up. But I cannot give up my other dreams either.”
“That’s what the point of the protest was, isn’t it?”
Obbi pondered.
“Gettin’ more inclusive education and diversity in fashion schools so there’d be more designers like you. Then you wouldn’t have to do it all. That was our goal this whole time and we won’t let Eau de Rose stop us.”
As Obbi went on with details of the protest, Stock’s face twisted in deep thought with what became a dawning realization.
“Say,” she began, “There was an ‘anonymous source’ mentioned in the papers, who clearly knew Tourmaline really well, and understood the goals of the protest clearly too. You’ve got an awful lot to say about both. Do you know this individual? Or are you Miss Anonymous?”
“Well…”
Obbi wasn’t too keen on revealing herself, since like she said many times before the real credit went to River. But she couldn’t hide in her expression that she did have a small but important part to play.
“Oh! Oh, it is you!” Yngvlid exclaimed.
“It was the bare minimum of what I could’ve done,” Obbi was adamant to explain. “What anypony could’ve done. A whole lot of us should be doin’ more, in fact. If anythin’, I was just sayin’ what River said this whole time, makin’ sure her message was heard. Like givin’ her a megaphone.”
But nevertheless, River was starting to tear up again hearing this.
“This…this is just what I needed. All I ever wanted, simply for you to be with me on this. After all the other ways you supported me, I needed this perhaps most of all.”
Now it was Obbi’s turn to start crying.
“Oh, Morgie, I was so awful to you, tellin’ you to tone it down! How could I have said such things while you were dealin’ with so much? When you were just tellin’ the truth? It took me way too long, far longer than you gals—“
She looked at Stockholm and Yngvlid.
“—but I figured out what I needed to do, and that was to help get your message out there. Because there’s so much to fix. And ‘cause you’re my best friend, Diamond, and I love you.”
Then in an act of thankfulness, relief, and joy, River placed her own friendship bracelet in Obbi’s hoof, and took Obbi’s in her own claws as she tied it around her hoof. Obbi quickly caught on and tied River’s bracelet on her right after.
“I love you too, Little Pink.”
Then the two friends embraced, and cried, their bridge rebuilt at long last and now stronger than ever. They were a team, just as much as the other two creatures who were letting the oldest and closest friends have their moment now but would soon join in.
Whatever was thrown their way, they could now face together as a united front. Nothing would be able to break them apart like before or crush the dreams they were working towards. The plan they would soon come up with would help them come true in a way that none of them, individually, could have imagined.
~~~~~~~~~~
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