Rarity squinted at the fabric before her, sliding it smoothly through the rumbling sewing machine.
It was dark blue, of course. Eclair Creme's golden mane and powder blue coat needed something darker to accent it.
The mechanical needle pierced the fabric over and over, leaving smooth, straight stiches. It was a slow, soothing rhythm.
Still, she wished the needle would would move faster.
Her workspace was in disarray. Bundles of fabric were scattered across the floor. Sketches had been hastily taped to the walls. Spools of thread had rolled onto the floor.
It was the dresses. So many dresses. Dozens of the fanciest nobles and elegantest Manehatteaners all wanted them. And they didn't want anypony to make them. No, they wanted the personal friend of a princess, world-saver-several-times-over, and newest top fashion designer to make them. Dresses with billowing skirts, with frilly embroidery, gravity-defying headdresses. Complicated dresses.
Rarity bent forward to peer closer at the fabric. For a moment she could have sworn the stitches were crooked...no, they were perfectly straight.
Shadows pranced about the room, and her throat ached.
But that was normal. As long as she kept herself on a tight, no interruptions schedule, everything would be fine. The spring balls were almost over. Everything would be just fin-
The door suddenly burst open with a deafening bang, and a little filly ran in, pink and purple curls bouncing.
"Hi Rarity!" she shouted.
"Hello Sweetie Belle," Rarity muttered.
"What're you doing?" Sweetie Belle asked cheerfully.
"Sewing, Sweetie. I am a seamstress. I make dresses." Rarity curtly replied.
"But you've been making dresses this whole week! And today's Thursday, remember? You promised to give me cooking lessons on Thursday!"
"I'm busy."
"But Rarity..." Sweetie Belle complained.
"Sweetie Belle, don't whine. Go up to your room, or play outside or...or go destroy things with your crusader friends! Just leave me alone to work for a while!" Rarity begged.
Sweetie Belle grumbled a bit and trotted out of the room, heedlessly slamming the door behind her.
Rarity sighed, and went back to work, her throbbing head forecasting the beginnings of a migraine.
Everything would be back to normal as soon as she finished the dresses. Then maybe she'd sleep...and teach Sweetie Belle how to not burn orange juice...
A sudden smell invaded her nostrils, bitter and acrid. A bit like something had burnt. Of course, this morning she thought she had smelt nonexistent turnips but-
Something -an alarm- started to beep loudly. She'd heard that alarm before, hadn't she? It was from when...when Sweetie Belle tried to cook.
She raced from the room, bursting into the kitchen, where Sweetie Belle was attempting to throw water on a plate of black, charredness, smoke everywhere.
Rarity thrust the plate into the water-filled sink, and slammed open the windows open.
She turned to Sweetie Belle, her expression steely.
"I've told you never to cook without me." she said, her voice cold.
"I know," Sweetie Belle whispered,"but-"
"But what, Sweetie Belle?" Rarity asked,"What was so important that you wanted to risk killing yourself? To disrupt the little time I've got to finish my dress orders? What was so-"
"The dresses aren't even important!" Sweetie Bell shouted.
"Not important!" Rarity shouted back. "They're my livelihood!"
"Well, that doesn't mean you have to spend your entire life sewing!" Sweetie Belle retorted. "I barely even get to see you!"
"I'm a busy mare! I've got more dresses to make then time-"
"Time?" Sweetie Belle laughed, "Time? Twilight's a princess with a big fancy castle, and she still has more time for me than you!"
Rarity opened her mouth, ready to scream at Sweetie Belle to go to her room, when suddenly a thousand tiny black dots danced in front of her eyes, and the floor seemed very close.



When she woke up, the softness of her bed greeted her, and her head didn't hurt quite so much.
The first thing she saw was her workspace, clean and neat, every ribbon and bow tidied up.
The second thing she saw was Sweetie Belle, staring at her with wide eyes.
"Rarity?"
"Sweetie?"
"Rarity, everyone came...and...tidying...the doctor...little pills-" Sweetie Belle whispered, eyes wet.
"It's alright Sweetie, I'm alright."Rarity whispered."And...I'm sorry I said all those awful things."
"Me too." Sweetie Belle sniffled.
Rarity gave a weak smile. "I guess sisterly love is the best medicine."