Necessary Love

by Zurock

Chapter 8: Imbalance

"Ahem," Canterbury cleared his throat awkwardly. He was very sympathetic. Or attempting it anyway. "You've... all done... very well, uh, for your age."

He walked about his open-air glass workshop, swinging his neck about in broad gestures at everything. Much more sympathetic (to himself), he stated, "And look on the bright side: nopony set anything on fire."

Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Poppy continued to roll their blowpipes back and forth over their benches. Three of the fillies were less than enthusiastic about the task. Indifferent pushes were followed by idle pulls, and they lifelessly churned their hooves and swished their pipes with silent creaks like rocking the cradle of the most boring baby foal.

The gathers of glass on the ends of all their blowpipes had cooled significantly, glowing only a pleasantly warm orange instead of the burning brightness from when they were first pulled from the furnace. Each filly was supposed to have crafted a shape fit for eventually transformation into a glass cup; essentially a sort of egg with a bubble inside. However they had instead somehow birthed bloated and cancerous monstrosities; ill-shaped blobs that were bursting with bulbous curves in every bad place, like some kind of mutated, bilious beast from beneath a bog. Only Sweetie Belle's had some partial resemblance to the correct shape, though it was still hardly in the form of a cup; more of a gourd, but the sickest one of the harvest.

Their mentor for the activity, a stallion quite skilled in glassblowing, couldn't lie with his eyes. Every look at one of their unnatural and disturbing creations had him automatically projecting a dread normally saved for incredibly sickly sights.

"So... good work for a first try," Canterbury again tried to let them down gently.

"But... we'll have to start over?" Sweetie Belle blandly predicted.

Again the pony mentor cleared his throat, longer and more awkwardly than before. But when that didn't procure him enough time for a clever evasion he bought a few precious extra seconds more with some stalling mumbles.

"It's not... impossible to reheat and reshape your glass, uh... items...," he attempted, "... but... there comes a point where... you know, um-" The muscles in his neck tightened as he held his lips shut to trap in the very honest, nasty words which were so desperate to be said.

Quickly he bent down next to Sweetie Belle, where he rearranged his thoughts and delivered a still honest but yet much more comforting assessment, "You, little miss. Your start was very strong. You blew a great bubble; you've probably got a powerful set of lungs. But the subsequent shaping just didn't go the right way. So, at this point, it's probably just easier for you to start over. Begin with another strong start, which you know you can do, and try your hoof again at what came out weaker."

He stood up and turned towards the other fillies, with their slightly more grotesque creations. His voice turned cagey once more.

"The... uh... the same...," he coughed out uneasily, "...goes for the rest of you."

And just like that the barbs of failure buried themselves deep into the original crusaders. Their rolling blowpipes, already so slow and lifeless, lost that much more momentum. Even the true compliment given to Sweetie Belle was deflected away by the dejection.

Naturally it was only Poppy who was unaffected by any downward turn.

Every step of the creative process had been fascinating to her, every effort to copy it had been exciting to try, and the final report of defeat was as undiscouraging as it was completely expected. She giggled, slowing her blowpipe only out of practical resignation.

James, however...

By this third activity something different had started to seep into the man. This time it hadn't taken a beloved filly to pull him into quiet participation; no, he had stepped up to the task himself willingly, and hardly with hesitation at all even. He had no memories of ever having witnessed glassblowing, nor had he ever thought about it in his entire life, but suddenly once it was there in front of him he had wanted to get his hands on a pipe and give it a shot.

He hardly felt it, but it wasn't something about the craft itself which drove him. He was unconsciously rich with some kind of new energy. The world was eager to scoop him up, and he felt so ready to attach himself generously to whatever came his way. An indulgent energy – powerful, bountiful, free, and full of life – flowed from elsewhere, straight into him.

He was so engrossed that he didn't even allow the disappointed crusaders the short time needed to lower their heads in shame before he called to Canterbury, "Excuse me! Does mine look right?"

The stallion stretched his neck to catch a glimpse of the shape hanging off the man's blowpipe. His expression flipped through a rapid change and he swiftly trotted over.

"Ah, yes, that's very good! Very textbook!" he stated spiritedly. With his own hoof he took over rolling the pipe while he searched the whirling proto-cup for any fatal flaws, and happily he found none.

"This is excellent!" he guided James' hand back to the blowpipe. "Why don't I prepare a punty to transfer it to so you can try shaping the top and finishing it up? Meanwhile, if you please, just shove your pipe back into the glory hole there to warm up it again."

The pony pointed off to one of the furnaces: a bulky construct with a round portal into a chamber of fire.

The man nodded in acknowledgment, but he also couldn't keep himself from looking away and chortling discreetly. An amused snort popped out of his nose.

It hadn't been the first time he had so reacted to the master glassblower's instructions. It had drawn enough curiosity from Canterbury that the pony finally had to ask, "Why do you keep snickering when I say that?"

"Hm? I-It's nothing," James tried to excuse away his reaction, but the very act of trying to deny it only gave it power. Another small snort leaked out.

Canterbury gave the man a deductive glance, trying to let the diversion pass as he went to grab a punty rod. He drew a choice rod out of a large, heavy barrel which held several similar ones, but he stopped there and suddenly uttered loudly and intently, "Glory hole."

A single laugh burst from James' mouth before he managed to seal himself up and hold in the rest of his cackling, coughing as he did so.

"If you don't already get it," he attempted to explain for the confused and staring stallion, but he could hardly bring down his smile or dial back his suppressed laughter, "then... I don't know if I can tell you what so funny... It's-, i-it's nothing, heh..."

Oh, ponies...

Ponies, ponies, ponies...

Magical, rainbow-shaded ponies who were, in so many ways, purely human. There were differences too, many of which could be enumerated plainly (and mostly pedantically). But... there was ONE difference – one ABSENCE – that the man in particular had begun to notice over the months. One thing he had never, ever seen or heard even a single hint of.

Maybe there was something that didn't quite translate about it? Which would have been incredibly odd... but not impossible, all things considered; magical talking horses, and all. Maybe storks were the real deal in Equestria?

The man felt he had a safe bet in maintaining silence.

The mentor pony, ruffled but unrattled, soon shrugged the distraction off. He proceeded to warn his guests back as he slid on some protective eyewear and readied his punty to gather a dab of molten glass from the hottest furnace.

But the three dejected crusaders hardly needed a warning to avert their eyes from the blindingly bright sight. Their faces were down to the floor, and their minds were consumed by only one terrible thing.

"Aaannnddd strike three," Scootaloo sighed to her friends. "We're out."

"Oh, come on," Apple Bloom attempted feebly to keep them going. Even to herself it was obvious her full heart wasn't in her pleas. "We can't just stop. I mean, we've... failed at a lot more than only three things before. Just today, even."

"That somehow made it sound worse," the sore pegasus shot back.

"And besides," Sweetie Belle pitched her own dry voice in, "what's even the point anymore if everything that WE try, HE'S just going to do better? Why doesn't HE just get ALL the cutie marks and be finished with showing us up? We know it's not luck now."

Apple Bloom, her gasps of resistance fading, repeated her earlier self weakly, "It's not about him... It's about us, and our cutie marks, and our special talents..."

The limp appeal fruitlessly bounced off the other two crusaders. There was nowhere inside hopeful enough for it to have taken hold. It drifted down like a soggy leaf falling from a tree in a storm, the wash of the rain carrying it along the wet road straight into a sewer drain.

"I don't feel very special," Sweetie Belle said in a whisper.

Their collective will collapsed. Altogether the weight crushed them. They were synced in misery.

Scootaloo raised her hoof and officially offered, "All in favor of declaring Operation: Everything! a total failure?"

The fast vote was unanimously passed. They all abandoned their workbenches, letting their barely moving blowpipes coast to their own stops, and they took defeated clops towards the stone steps that lead down into the streets of a hopeless Ponyville.

"Where are you going?"

Poppy appeared behind them, still beaming and still springy.

Though they stopped for her, none of the crusaders responded to her. Their gazes only wandered along uncomfortable paths, crossing over each other sometimes. Their voices shuffled through low groans which sounded like the beginnings of words, each throat almost hoping to trick one of the others into answering.

The grim shame that cloaked them slithered like a silent shadow towards Poppy, and the glorious light which always shined from the little Drypony started to wash away from her face as she felt the wicked claws reaching out for her.

Dismayed and confused she asked her new friends, "Are... we going to the next thing already?"

"Poppy," Sweetie Belle's voice reached out cautiously, "I think maybe we're done. With everything."

"But... we only just started," the other filly replied. Absolutely she felt whatever sour melancholy was radiating from them, yet she couldn't quite understand what exactly it was, or why.

The crusaders again weren't able to offer a straight reply to her; their dark and nearly empty stares were the closest thing to an answer they had.

Poppy sincerely reached herself out to them.

"What's wrong?"

They all baked in the hot air of the glass workshop for several long moments before Scootaloo braved a deep gaze into the Drypony.

"Poppy... why are you crusading with us?" she asked.

The unanticipated question was laced with thicker meanings. The depth of it all was rather hard for the thin-minded, noble-spirited Drypony to fully grasp; she was so much slower with her head than she was with her heart.

"Well...," she looked at each of new friends in turn, fumbling with her attempt at an answer, "... you asked me if I wanted to be a crusader, and... I said 'yes,' and... I thought... that... this is what a crusader does, right? They do things. A lot of things."

"A crusader seeks their cutie mark," Scootaloo reminded their honorary member, wiggling her body to call attention to her blank flank. The pegasus' words then came out more strongly, full of purpose and hidden accusation, "Or... helps another pony earn theirs."

"Oh. Right," Poppy neatly moaned.

The discombobulated thoughts of duty and responsibility bounced around in her head as she grappled with trying to understand her crusader role as seriously as all her other roles in life; her station with the Heartwood Guard, her title as ambassador, her position as the young beacon hope for the ponies who loved her, and so on. In that respect – in her responsibility as a dutiful Prideheart hero – she began to feel very inadequate.

Her infinite happy energy finally found its bottom. She lowered her face in youthful shame and confessed, "I don't actually know anything about cutie marks."

"Apparently neither do we," groaned Sweetie Belle.

But still it was a bit much for Poppy to follow. Her eyes shifted about her face, peeling wide and squinting thin, as she tried to discern the heart of the crusaders' troubles.

"Isn't-... isn't this all part of it?" she asked the three fillies. "Going around, and trying lots of new things, and meeting new ponies who know different things, and seeing how everything feels, and learning, and having fun, and—?"

"'Fun'?" Apple Bloom choked on the word as she tried to get it out.

This hadn't been an afternoon playing in the clubhouse, or some school field trip for the day. It was supposed to have been a day of serious work; of sweating hard as they clawed their way through the muddy trenches to unearth the mastery buried within their bodies. A day of focus; of determination; of SUCCESS. What 'fun' was toiling for NO progress?; was a day where all their efforts were NEVER rewarded?; where everything had been for NOTHING?

Scootaloo agreed, complaining bitterly, "We've failed at everything we've tried." And caught up in the faithless sensation she glared oddly at Poppy before she pointed out, "You've failed at it all, too."

"Yeah, I guess," the still-puzzled Drypony said. But she simply was unable to draw the connection between failure and defeat, especially given the obvious fact that, "I've never really done any of this stuff before. I mean, I think they do some things like this at Hamestown too but I never tried it. This is my first time, just like you."

Then a glimmer of her normal vibrancy flashed.

"There's so much more here in Ponyville, though! I want to try it all!"

For as unable as Poppy was to comprehend the crusaders' pessimistic resignation, they seemed equally unable to understand how she could stride so easily through ultimate defeat and quickly swing back into her usual enthusiasm.

Apple Bloom stammered with both mouth and body before she finally excused, "It's just-... it's just not the same for you, Poppy. On account of you already having a cutie mark! You wouldn't understand what this all means to a blank flank!"

Poppy tried twisting her ears about. She tried tilting her head. She tried her mightiest to get whatever the distraught farm filly was balking about into her simple brain. But it just didn't make sense, and the lost look of her eyes reflected the disconnect between her sympathetic heart and her dizzy mind.

"You know what your special talent is already!" Apple Bloom carried on, actually upset by the other filly's confusion; as if all that sympathy were meaningless if it couldn't morph into true empathy. "You know what a great Branch Dancer you are so it don't matter to you if you're no good at all this other stuff."

"What?" the Drypony croaked. "I still want to try it! And be good at it, if I can be!"

"Why?" Sweetie Belle asked in doubt.

"Because..."

But she didn't really have a reason ready in her head; or not one which she had the wits to intelligibly relate anyway. The message was untranslatable; inscribed so completely within her core being: by Prideheart's virtues, a pony gave the best of all they had to the things which they did, WHATEVER those things were. That's how everything was where she had come from. That's what was expected of anypony.

She reasserted herself, and she put it the only way she possibly could.

"Because... why not?"

Joyful jumping filled her again and, springing in place, she happily expressed, "This stuff has been so amazing to see! And to try! I want to know all about it, and see what it's like to do it all; at least a little bit! Maybe I'll be good at some of these things! Maybe not, or maybe I'll need more practice! But that's okay! It's a lot of fun just to try either way!"

Suddenly the bouncy filly came to a frozen stop, something very evidently clicking in her head.

"And... if you're looking for your special talents... and these things we've been doing aren't them... then... doesn't that mean... that it doesn't matter if you're not very good at them? That you can just enjoy trying them anyhow cause they're not going to get you your cutie marks anyway?"

Her eyes shifted about as she looped through the logic in her own head once more, and she genuinely asked the crusaders for their input with a very unsure, "Right?"

None of the others immediately answered. Unspoken words seemed to pass between them, lobbed around through their off-center stares and sideways glances. There wasn't any desire to fully consider what Poppy had suggested, lest there be any admission that maybe she was somehow right.

Eventually Sweetie Belle found the strength to emit a sore objection.

"Maybe it does matter! It matters if we're terrible at EVERYTHING. These things can't be all THAT hard if there are ponies who can do them... and if..."

A shadow fell about the eyes of the sullen filly, like darkened crevices breaking open upon her lowered face. The dying glimmer they gave off was just enough to draw a bitter line towards James.

"... And if HE can do everything without even trying..."

The whole pack of little ponies turned to look at the man.

He sat at his bench, a big smile on his face, rolling his freshly heated glass back and forth on the punty it had been transfered to. His focus was solid but not otherwise intense or determined; he was merely absorbed with interest in what he was doing. His glasswork had now taken a distinctly cup-like shape.

Canterbury stood next to him, also engrossed in with unburdened excitement, far beyond anything he had shown the flimsy crusaders. In his teacherly thrill the stallion gave detailed instructions which were interspersed with acknowledging encouragements. The man listened, absorbed, and worked.

Though there were disappointed groans from the three defeated crusaders, Poppy took pleasure in what she saw. The impossible connection between the others' unrewarded efforts and his easy success would never have reached her. She saw only another reason to admire him.

"Yeah, he's really good! I don't know how he does it!"

"There's another possibility," the awful words started to cram together and clog Sweetie Belle's throat. "Maybe he's NOT really good at everything! Maybe WE'RE just-... just-...!"

Poppy waited patiently, pointlessly. There was no conclusion to Sweetie Belle's statement.

Finally the Drypony delicately broke the silence, gently echoing, "'We're just...'?"

No answer again.

The cold line which divided the original crusaders from the honorary recruit deepened its frozen chill; enough that, for once, the emphatic filly could faintly sense it keeping them apart. She lifted a timid hoof and pointed it solely at them.

"... YOU'RE just...?"

Their beaten silence spoke their sordid approval. Even though Poppy hadn't been outperforming them in any of their recent challenges they didn't consider her party to their ultimate failure. There was still SOMETHING that she could already do well; AT LEAST one thing.

And that was unlike them.

But the little Drypony was too sensitive a soul. She felt every sad heave in their bodies and every disappointed twist to their emotions; even if she were never to understand it, she felt the bruises on their spirits. To leave them there in that misery... well, that was like leaving the wounded behind! That wasn't the Prideheart way!

And... that wasn't the Cutie Mark Crusader way either! Right? Something about... how a crusader helps others...?

"You're not terrible...," she told them unabashedly. These new friends were still just as amazing to her as they had been when she had first been introduced to who and what they were. They were great and talented CRUSADERS.

"... You don't really know us..." whispered Sweetie Belle.

"I know you're really trying, and that's good," Poppy said. Her smile pleaded with them to accept her support.

But at last some restraint inside Sweetie Belle snapped. Angry pain shook her and she hoarsely shouted, "I'm tired of 'really trying'! And of getting nothing for it!"

The sudden intensity surprised the other crusaders, but right away they yielded to their identical feelings. The cheating man came to their minds instantly. It was so horribly unfair how he had put in so much less and yet had gotten so much more! They were ready to shout about too.

"What's going on here?"

They jumped, finding James suddenly standing over them.

The man's cup complete, Canterbury was busy storing it safely away to cool. Even though it had been Sweetie Belle's outburst which had drawn James over, for some reason his eyes checked in with Poppy first.

But the small Drypony wanted to direct his attention to those who really needed it. She refused to say anything herself, aware of how little she understood the crusaders' problem. If they could explain it to him themselves then he would understand, and he would help.

He WOULD help. Of course he would!

"Everything alright?" James asked Poppy. There was little evident concern; just enough to check if everything was shipshape.

Like a puppy giving a warning the filly squirmed in place, her body becoming an arrow pointed towards the three crusaders.

The man's curious gaze turned towards them, but it only felt to them like being pushed up against a precipice; being cornered by confrontation. They were less than ready for it. It was easy to curse him under their breath for their failures but it was so much more difficult to be straight about it before him.

"James...," Apple Bloom strained herself hard to express, "... I think that... we're finished..." They weren't the words which she had wanted to say but they were all that she had. At least the decaying sound of finality had found its way into them.

"Oh... you're not-... not going to give your cups another try?" the man misinterpreted her.

The lingering pause at the start of his reply had held the promise of possible understanding; a moment where he could have turned down a fork in the road towards embracing them. But somehow he had forgone it.

The three crusaders felt the sharp disappointment plunge deep.

"Have we run out of time? We already have to move on? Where are we off to next?" James asked them in sequence, each inquiry directed at a different crusader as one by one they failed to respond with a swift answer.

Scootaloo finally found enough nerve to carefully correct him, "We're finished... for the day."

"Done with EVERYTHING?" he questioned, almost aghast.

But even though every syllable from the crusaders had reverberated with inescapable conclusion, and every fiber of their bodies shook with surrender, he still – STILL – did not see.

"It's not even lunch yet. It sounded like you girls had a lot more lined up."

Shades of accusation slipped over his sentences.

Sweetie Belle, a little perturbed by his reaction and now even a little intimidated by his presence, daintily explained to him, "It... isn't really working out for us so we're-... we're going to call it quits."

The man immediately became alarmed, quite clearly tensing up. He turned defensive, almost HOSTILE, as if the three little villains were there to snatch something away from him.

But, despite whatever was going on inside of him, on the outside he quickly adopted a face of strong, hard control. A military sturdiness took him. He leaned forwards and towered over the crusaders. His words took on a similar duality. They were wrapped on the outside with conciliatory sympathy, but something else gurgled underneath.

"Poppy really needs to see more of Ponyville. That's what she's come here for. Are you SURE you want to stop now?"

All of the crusaders sensed it. It obviously wasn't supposed to have been a threat...

But...

They couldn't recognize who he was.

Since having met him none of them had ever known James to be imposing, angry, or authoritarian. Goofy and friendly; sure. Always urging them along in their quest or taking an interest in what they did, like an older brother; yeah. Only today had they ever felt threatened by him; first by the shadow cast by his unexplainable talent, but now...

The stranger in front of them with shallowly disguised ire was legitimately frightening.

Apple Bloom halfway answered him, "Well-... well... we-... we ain't sure if-... That is to say, ah..." She swallowed, leaving behind only a sheepish smile.

Poppy was thrown for a loop by the man's reaction, though for entirely different reasons. Nothing that was happening made any sense in her world, and mild panic began to set in. The feeling was actually familiar: she recalled how terribly painful it was to have watched Broken Oak temporarily reject Prideheart heroism; to have watched a pony she believed in get wedged between truth and desire, and ultimately take the darker path. She couldn't possibly understand how so good and strong of a pony could have been so disastrously held back by some smaller, weaker part of themselves.

Tapping faintly at her tall friend's legs she tried to mediate, "James, I don't mind if they want to stop. We can still go exploring for ourselves."

It stung her how even to her he suddenly was harshly resistant.

"Well, they-... they know Ponyville a lot better than I do," he moved swiftly to justify conscripting the crusaders, "and they've already set up meetings with so many other ponies. That's a lot better than just stumbling upon things on our own."

He turned a stare which cut deep back into the crusaders.

"Right? You've already planned things out for the rest of the day?"

"... Yeah...," Scootaloo scarcely admitted.

Instantly she felt the heat of her friends' worried glances, but they had already so foolishly spilled all the details earlier in their eager haste. If the man were to have caught them in a lie then things would have only gotten worse. Still, she shored up her best courage and tried to represent her fellows' interest by putting her hoof down.

Or rather, by lowering her hoof very, very tenderly.

"There is a lot more that we had planned but... we're... not feeling it anymore. So I guess... we're done crusading for now. Uh, thanks."

Valiantly she tried so hard to hold a stare on him, though it wiggled away constantly. Confidently she tried to hold her hoof strong on the ground, though it lightly tapped on the stone. But as he stood herself against she saw not once ounce of sympathy take hold in him.

Quickly she retreated and tried to bargain, "We can, uh, head back to the clubhouse maybe and just... you know... tell Poppy all about Ponyville, or something..."

This time no whiff of concession came to James' tone. There wasn't any part of him acting as the older cousin who was a friendly guardian and guide. There hardly was even the illusion of any of that. He summoned his most disappointed adult; ghostly memories of his own failings before his parents and they way they had always corrected him afterwards, but he grabbed only the most twisted and dark parts of it; all the authority and none of the love. He hid his own desires behind an aura of educational punishment.

"You know...," he lectured them, unleashing a brutal sternness in certain key words, "I think it's VERY RUDE for you to break off your commitments to those other ponies so suddenly. Arranging for them to take time out of THEIR WEEKEND just to mentor you and then you don't show up? That's VERY DISRESPECTFUL."

As if all the crusaders' hurt feelings hadn't been enough they now had disgraceful shame on their plates as well.

A nervous paleness flushed into Sweetie Belle's face, she tucked her body in tightly, her tail folded about her, and she tamely yielded, "I guess... we can try out a few more things..."

Uncertain glances to her equally reluctant partners followed, and they all cowered in fear of resisting.

James nodded.

"Good. That's good. Thank you."

The statement even sounded so washed out and thankless; said only to fulfill some bothersome social expectation and no more. He gave a final look to the silent, buried crusaders before he turned around walked off to inform Canterbury of their impending departure.

Confused, uncomfortable, and almost even sorry for how poorly her intervention had turned out (against something she STILL couldn't quite understand!), Poppy watched James step away with a sad bend in her mouth. Shaking it out of herself, she tried to cheer the other crusaders up with an optimistically bright, "It'll be fun. I just know it."

Nothing good rose in them.

"If-... if you really don't want to...," the Drypony offered.

But the three wounded crusaders only had to peek at the man's turned backside and they felt fearsome shivers pound through them from tail to nose.

"Nah, it's alright, Poppy," Apple Bloom uneasily said. "We're, uh, glad to give it another go and, uh, show you around some more."

The pity-filled Poppy thought on the comment for several long, hard moments before she responded with a sympathetic and appreciative smile.

---

A few bits plinked down onto the counter, bouncing once or twice.

"That should be exactly enough, I think. Unless I've misjudged the postage," said Twilight. She redid the calculations quickly in her head, mostly confident that her result wouldn't change.

The stallion behind the counter swept the bits together and counted them before he reached over and picked up the envelope that the unicorn had set down as well. Sealed securely, it was thick with paperwork; her laboriously assembled reply to the exciting letter she had received only yesterday.

His eyebrows perked up, aware of how unusual the piece of mail was; by thickness and by the uncommonly high postage it apparently needed for its size and weight. He whirled it about and set it down before himself so that he could read the destination address, which only surprised him more.

Looking back at Twilight, he abruptly remarked, "Woah. Heading there soon or something?"

"Oh, something like that," she replied with a grin.

"Lucky."

Suitably impressed, and not altogether unjealous, the mailpony turned aside and ran his hoof along a chart on the wall to verify the postage. Naturally Twilight's delivered payment was on the money, and so he set about the standard course of his job: stamping her envelope with the correct labels, dumping the bits into the register, preparing her receipt, and so on. When he finished up he simply tossed her mail into one of many bins behind him. It landed with a flat clang; the bin was mostly empty compared to its neighbors which were glutted with mail for more common and local destinations.

"That's it. Will probably go out this evening. Will be delivered by Tuesday," he reported, sliding the final receipt towards her. "Anything else I can help you with?"

"No, thanks!" Twilight answered, taking the paper, bowing her head, and turning to leave.

She had only just started to go when the post office door swung open from a heavy push, fanning away air with its forceful movement and making the bell which dangled from the top scream.

"Pardon," Applejack belatedly called through her teeth as she strode inside. In her mouth she gripped tightly the tied cords of a mammoth sack which bounced on her back as she laid her hooves along. All sorts of prickly edges were threatening to poke through the sack's threaded exterior; it was overstuffed with outgoing mail.

Always glad to see a friend, Twilight stopped and greeted, "Hey, Applejack!"

Smooth enough to walk, talk, and tip her hat all while bearing her weighty load, Applejack responded in happy surprise as she passed, "Hey, pleasure to see ya, sugar cube!"

The farm pony waltzed up to the counter and flung her sack over her head onto it. The bag's mouth slipped open as it crashed and an avalanche of mail surged out. Some letters flooded out into a pile on the smoothed wooden countertop but others spilled onto the floor on either side.

"Mind getting these stamped and sent for me?" she requested of the mailpony, whose immediate response was an annoyed grimace before he reluctantly got to work.

"Just a few letters for the rest of the Apple family?" Twilight approached her friend and asked.

Wiping the sweat off her brow and readjusting her hat, Applejack gaily replied, "Yep! Quarter-annual letters 'bout the state of affairs at the farm and all that, seeing as it's the start of winter. Granny never keeps enough stamps around for this though."

She nodded back at her friend before she was suddenly seized by a missing detail. She peeked about the room, finding no sign.

"Hey, where's Beanstalk? Isn't today your-"

"Poppy showed up at the library this morning so he's spending the day with her instead," the unicorn was pleased to explain.

"That right?" the farm pony lifted her eyebrow. It was such unexpected news that she had to rub her chin and waggle her mouth to draw out the relevant memories. "That springy little filly from way out there? The one he got a real fondness for?"

"Uh huh!" Twilight confirmed. "She's... technically here on a mission to experience Ponyville. But all the more reason to have him be the one to lead her around, I think."

"Well I'll be a rooster crowin' past sunrise!" exclaimed Applejack. She cracked a high smile with one corner of her mouth. "Guess that lets you off the hook from foalsittin' him, heh."

"It's not foalsitting," the slightly defensive unicorn immediately countered. But she was tickled with embarrassment by her own fast defensiveness and she quickly dismantled her impulsively-erected ramparts. All the while her orange friend chuckled in harmless mischief.

Twilight said, "I-, I would have been fine to spend the time with him. I just thought-"

The farm pony's hoof shook away any undue distress and she laughed a jolly, "I know, I know. And a good call that was I reckon. I bet ol' Beanstalk was just plumb shining to see her."

"Yeah, he was," Twilight acknowledged, a much softer control coming into her voice.

A brief thought entered her mind: how much had Applejack foreseen something like this? Certainly James' sincere attachment to Poppy hadn't really been hidden back when they had been at Hamestown. But Twilight herself hadn't ever predicted just how overjoyed the man would have been to have seen the little Drypony again.

Applejack couldn't possibly have witnessed any more between man and filly than she herself had, but somehow the details of this latest encounter all seemed completely expected to the farm pony. Perhaps her friend's homely wisdom had grasped something her bookish intelligence hadn't. Or then again, maybe on his days at Sweet Apple Acres James had shared things with Applejack that he HADN'T shared with her; things that the farm pony perhaps had the brave and plain gumption to actually ask about. Unlike her frequently-surprised self lately.

The partially aimless thoughts faded instantly under the curious questions her friend suddenly lobbed.

"So, how long is the li'l miss here for? The rest of us ponies gonna get the chance to say howdy? Beanstalk gonna drag her down with him to Sweet Apple Acres on Monday? Or should I be expectin' to give up my day too, hehe?"

"Oh, I don't know how long Poppy will be in Ponyville, Applejack. I didn't ask her. I don't expect TOO long though, given that it's the first outing of Heartwood's ambassadors. Anyway, if... you think that there's going to be scheduling trouble on Monday, I can ask James if he can-"

"Nah. He does or he don't... Ain't nothing," Applejack again allayed her friend. Another casually thrown hoof, another amiable grin, and then she elaborated plainly, "Just the changing seasons, is all. The pegasi are gonna finish bringing in the cold air over the weekend here and then that first snowfall comes down Monday morning. Big Mac and I thought we might stick Beanstalk with a bunch of shovelin' and see if he could really handle it like he done told us he could."

"Ah, I see," accepted Twilight.

Shoveling snow? Fair and honest work! And actually something that would be worthwhile for Poppy to see! For multiple reasons even!

She could see that methods of farmwork differed in some ways between Hamestown and Ponyville. Likewise she could have a chance to get a ground view of how pegasi manipulate weather. Come to think of it, there wasn't even an orchard like Sweet Apple Acres in Hamestown! Even buried in layers of snow its beauty was worth a visit.

Perhaps the most important reason to encourage a trip there, though... was that it was another good excuse for James and Poppy to spend some time together.

And that was something the unicorn felt compelled to support in every way which she could. It was both satisfying and relieving to see such ordinary happiness come out of the man; to see what such uncomplicated love did for him. Setting him up with more of that liberation felt especially important now that Twilight knew that there had been hidden troubles with Pinkie—

It was like a snake bite to the back of her mind. Nervous venom oozed in. Buried wiggles wormed their way surfacewards, writhing in anxiety the whole way up.

There were a few shaky taps from her hooves as she readjusted her standing to help maintain her calm. Bigger, deeper breaths flowed in and out. Then, with the specter of her worries largely concealed, she forced a strange, subject-veering question out to Applejack.

"So... there haven't been... any issues with James at the farm, right?"

Immediately the words didn't sound right, if only to her own unbalanced imagination. Unsteady haste crept into her voice as she offered fast alternatives.

"I mean, you haven't had any trouble with him, right? Or rather, nothing has been a real problem? Between you two personally, maybe? It's all good, I mean. And of course it is! Because you would tell me if it wasn't, haha! And... I'm just... making sure, is all. Aheh."

"Uh... okay?" the farm pony reacted with confounded slowness, scratching her head high enough to tip her hat slightly.

"No trouble at all that I can remember," she finally answered, before she leaned forwards and stared into her friend's weak facsimile of a smile. Lowering her voice, she asked, "Everything alright, sugar cube?"

"I'm great!" Twilight forcefully announced. "I mean, if you're great then I'm great! And that's great!"

"... Twilight?"

The unicorn pushed a sighing moan out through her closed mouth as her whole visage dimmed a little. Her guard pulled back as she fidgeted with her standing again and again.

At last she said, "Pinkie Pie... came by earlier, and she was somewhat upset." Through a heavy pause her face fell some more. "Well... really upset. Apparently she feels like... she hasn't been connecting to James like she should be? Like all her usual overtures of friendship have been completely failing and he's not actually even her friend." She shook her head, soaked in bewilderment, rejection, confusion, and worry all at once.

Seriousness poured into Applejack's face, not bringing with it any hard edges but only the softer lines of concern. She gave a tiny, listening nod.

Twilight continued, "I told her that I think she might be blowing her problem out of proportion and all she really needs to do is sit down and talk with James about it directly so that they can work it out. And... there's no reason they can't work it out so... I think that will do it."

Another pause, and then she tacked on quietly, "I hope..."

There was no forthcoming answer from the farm pony. The focus behind her eyes made it clear that she had absorbed everything that had been said, but for some reason she wouldn't offer a window into her insight.

Applejack not speaking her mind? It immediately put Twilight on edge.

The tension in the unicorn only grew as the strangely-silent farm pony sunk into a subtle retreat. An undecided wobbling snuck into Applejack's legs, an agitated swishing slipped into her tail, her eyes started to search out forgotten corners of the room, and a painful reserve replaced the attentive expression on her face.

Being picky with her exact words, she finally shared, "Beanstalk, he-... well... he isn't a DISHONEST fellow..."

One big breath, along with a sideways stare.

"... but..."

The word was so drawn out that it was like a bridge disappearing into an infinite expanse of fog, only hopefully connected to a far off shore.

Twilight clutched to it urgently.

"... Well... his barn door isn't always open," the farm pony at last completed, punctuating her sentence with a fast, "if you take my meaning."

Twilight had certainly encountered that particular side of James in the past. What actually dug under her skin though was the implication of Applejack's reserve: the idea that the farm pony saw fit to lower her hopes about the situation without a second guess. Even without having heard Pinkie Pie's half of the tale, Applejack's real judgment was that the man might very well have never been... genuine... towards their pink friend. For whatever that truly meant.

The pensive thoughtfulness which pervaded the unicorn was swiftly read by Applejack, and in response the farm pony tried to spontaneously turn her opinion fully around.

"I'm sure you're right, though. They'll work it out somehow."

She stopped to nod to herself; to force belief into what she had just said.

And when that didn't feel like enough she added on, "After all, what pony better to pry the friendship out of a stubborn mule like him than Pinkie Pie?"

Twilight's eyes rested on the floor.

'Stubborn'...? Yes, he could be...

But...

Was that REALLY all there was to this?

Wasn't it SHE HERSELF who had been in Pinkie Pie's exact position, months ago? When James' hidden suffering had increasingly emerged and her open offerings of assistance had been turned away repeatedly? When it had come down to a battle between man and unicorn to find to some solid ground of understanding? When she had aggressively tried to place herself on top of everything about him; had recklessly tried to resolve by herself every last issue of his; had thoughtlessly tried to break him down into some puzzle pieces which she could rearrange and solve in an impressive enough way to present to her mentor as a 'mission accomplished'?

Then, she had tried everything she had thought she was supposed to, not having realized for so long that her perspective had been wrong from the very start. Those past actions of hers had been SO headstrong in fact that she had more recently made it a point to back off and leave the man with some of his own space, even to the detriment of her own comfort.

WHO was stubborn? He had been then, but so had she been.

And now, with Pinkie...?

The lack of a response from the unicorn caused Applejack to assume that she needed to do more to hoist up her friend.

"Buck up, buttercup! They'll definitely work it out, just you wait and see." Reaching for a nice remark to cap everything she shot her eyes up with a carefree, dismissing laugh and commented with perhaps a bit too little guard, "Heck, I'd be more worried about Beanstalk's effect on Rainbow Dash!"

Wrongly chosen words.

They instantly sunk their fangs into Twilight.

"What about him and Rainbow Dash?" she questioned with scarcely controlled urgency.

"O-oh, it ain't nothing, heh! Uh, forget-... forget I said anything," Applejack raced to cover it over.

The unicorn only pressed in closer, her mere presence a growling wolf which slavered as it sought to pry truthful meat from its prey.

Backing up a step, the farm pony unevenly protested, "I mean it! It's not much of anything, Twilight! I was just saying something silly-like for comparison; to let you know how ridiculous worrin' for Pinkie is! If-... if it were serious then you know I'd have talked to you about it a ways back!"

"So it's nothing... but it's NOT nothing," Twilight emphasized her concern to her friend.

Applejack sighed and surrendered her resistance. Bringing herself close enough to the other pony so that they could converse more privately, she relayed, "Look... Rainbow has a competitive streak, right? And that ain't no big deal; I have a bit of one too; it helps me and her get along usually. But now..."

Her mouth squirmed with discomfort and hey gaze roamed so badly it wobbled her hat about on her head.

"... Well, I've occasionally had run-ins with Rainbow and Beanstalk together, you know, during her days with him, and I've seen that it's some of the same deal with them. They play and tease and throw themselves against each other, like yappy puppies trying to be top of the litter. Again, ain't no big deal if that's how they want get along; it's all in good fun."

Her voice dropped a level. She still expressed herself casually, but she was dark, and certain.

"Except... well... I think that all this regular amount of extra stimulation to Rainbow Dash's competitiveness has really worked that pony into a cocksure fighting mood lately. Nowadays she's always looking to challenge me at this or show me better at that, and it's not like she's being nasty about it or really any different than her usual self at all. It's just... in her so much more than it used to be. Like she got a tick lodged up her behind, biting her on the inside."

The farm pony waved a hoof with stiff tiredness, almost as if her experiences had left her bruised and aching.

While listening intently, Twilight thought about Pinkie Pie. By the honesty of Applejack's tale it really sounded like the farm pony was enduring through some ordinary irritation. But it had ALSO fully seemed like Pinkie Pie had been fine too, until the bubbly pony had suddenly appeared at the library doorstop in a thousand broken pieces.

"I never catch a break from it whenever she sees me now," Applejack lightly complained. "Every corner I turn: there she is, lookin' ready to tussle; challenging me to some contest; giving me a 'betcha couldn't do this!'"

She could feel the mild harshness which was rising in her voice and, deciding that she didn't want to be angry, she released it with a quick sigh.

Taking a second to breath first she kept her mood under control and lamented plainly, "I imagine in her mind she's really thinkin' things are the same as they always was. Probably don't even realize she's behavin' like she is. Still... it's right frustratin'."

Suddenly she became aware of the unicorn's scrutinizing gaze and she immediately played everything down.

"Like I said, it ain't no big deal, Twilight. Just so much time playing with Beanstalk is making her more... pugnacious-like than usual and she hasn't come down from it yet. I'd have no trouble with it normally but putting up with her like that ALL THE TIME is just making me a mite frazzled is all."

When Twilight's thin-eyed stare didn't change, the farm pony held a hoof over herself and solemnly vowed, with strong honesty, "I'm good. I'm fine! I swear it. And I know friendships ain't perfect things. Sometimes there's a bump in the road what rattles the wagon. Just like with Pinkie and Beanstalk. So I know I just got to give everything a chance to settle and wait it out."

Twilight tried so hard to perceive all the intricate connections. She tried to divine the proper solutions. She tried to balance the bridges of all her friends.

But she wasn't the lord and master of all their friendships.

A sigh escaped her.

They needed the same solution as James and Pinkie Pie.

"If you feel like the problem is getting worse," she requested of her friend, "you'll sit down with Rainbow Dash and talk to her about it? And if you need help, you'll come and get me?"

"Of course, sugar cube. On my honor."

The promise was incidentally sealed by the tingled ringing of the bell hanging from the post office door. The charming jingles announced the arrival of Rarity, who smoothly flowed through the doorway with all her grace echoing in her steps, and she trotted right up to the counter in a bout of singleminded determination.

Her busy brain was so focused that she apparently missed noticing her two friends and, more spectacularly, the massive pile of outbound mail which currently kept the pony at the counter oppressed. With her thoughts entirely on her own schedule, she tapped her hoof upon the countertop and instantly whipped into a prattling tale like an elderly mare would, unfolding her story all over the poor, overworked pony.

"Excuse me, sir! I hate to be a bother but I'm looking to pick up a package? I'm positive it should be here. I had it special ordered and rush delivered, you see. Something for my business; it's very important that I get it as soon as possible. I'd normally be content to let it be delivered to my doorstep on a more usual schedule but the sooner the better in this instance, so-... well, anything I could do to speed it up, you understand. It SHOULD have arrived this morning; I imagine that I can just take it off your hooves right now, if that's alright. It would be addressed to Rarity, at the Carousel Boutique? Sender would be Wonder Weave's Fine Fabrics. Please be a dear and fetch it immediately, thanks."

The haggard mailpony gave Rarity a motionless, dirty stare. A small and organized pile of a few of Applejack's now-stamped letters sat on his one side; the sum total of his loyal, regrettable efforts to fight against an ocean of mail. The runty pile was nothing compared to the undented mountain still left. Several misplaced stamps clung loosely to his vengeful face, their bright depictions of smiling ponies the very opposite of his own appearance. He bristled with a slithering fury under his skin the likes of which only those who've worked customer service could ever know. His mouth opened and out pours a few simple words with all the enthusiasm of a trained killer.

"I'll check the back."

"Good, you do that," the unicorn inattentively replied.

"Gee willikers, Rarity! Too busy to spare a 'hello?'" called Applejack. Her teasing greeting was ripe with affable warmth.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" the busy unicorn's focus immediately snapped to her friends. There was a swiftness to her manners; a compensation for having fallen below her usual ladylike standards. "I didn't see you two there! How's the day been treating you?"

"Can't complain," the farm pony answered.

"Not quite as I would've expected," Twilight had relatively more reserve, but she still managed to sound calmly collected.

She asked of the preoccupied-looking dressmaker, "In a rush to pick something up?"

"Some rolls of fabric; a cotton-silk blend," Rarity quickly sounded off. "I didn't have what I would need to make it myself; a quick order was faster."

"Last I remember hearing, them winter dresses of yours were coming along just fine," Applejack playfully said, leaning in and devilishly creasing her brow. "Bit off more than you can chew?"

Easily encouraged by the friendly prodding, Rarity responded with confidence, "Mmm, no, not at all. I may seem somewhat harried. Perhaps one could say I even appear worked up." Then, holding herself proudly, she raised a triumphant hoof, "But such are the throes of creation! One needs not a deadline to charge hornfirst into the great enterprise of design! So, if you must know, I believe the first dresses will in fact be finished early. Three or four days from now at the most is my guess. Then I won't need to even start thinking about the next designs for two weeks!"

"Wow, fantastic, Rarity!" Twilight congratulated her friend.

Applejack gave praise in much the same vein.

"Yes, I know, I know," the indulgent unicorn said as she absorbed the remarks, glowing with some of her vanity. "And a bigger window for rest is only the proper reward earned for such advanced effort."

Yet she had an easy time letting go of her pride and adorning some unabashed humility.

"But, credit where credit is due. It has only been with the help of others that my schedule has moved so fast, and they deserve the break as much as I."

Speaking of the very help that had made her astounding victory possible suddenly alerted her to a small incongruity in the ponies present. She took fast glances about.

"Where's James, Twilight? Saturday is your day, is it not?" she innocently asked.

"Oh, I'm not spending this one with him," the other unicorn casually dismissed.

But before she could continue on to explain the circumstances – Poppy and such – Rarity interrupted. The swift preemption came without any implication of guilt; no veiled disdain, no suspicious fear, and no hints of dark worry. The quip had a light coating of good-natured humor, if anything.

"Oh my. Have you had some sort of trouble with him?"

That single whiff of a disharmonious suggestion set Twilight off.

What had Rarity seen that she would have jumped straight to assuming that?! What had been going on in the shadows?! Unexpected naps and games with Rainbow Dash! Painful predicaments with Pinkie Pie! Applejack's out-of-balance friendship! Now what?! Why hadn't anypony spoken up about these things before?!

Wide-eyed with dread, full-bodied agitation rocking her enough to give her friends panicked pause; Twilight latched onto the dressmaker's shoulders and practically shouted, "RARITY! HAS there been some trouble with him?"

The stunned unicorn only reacted, "Twilight, dear, what has gotten into you?"

"With James!" Twilight emphasized, pulling herself that much closer her confused friend. "Has there been trouble WITH JAMES?"

Rarity looked to Applejack for any clues to the meaning of this strange behavior, but the farm pony didn't seem keen to vocalize her guesses and only curled her mouth while turning her head to the side.

Falling back upon straightforward honesty, the dressmaker at last stumbled in reply, "G-Goodness no. He's-... he's been nothing but a boon."

"R-... really?"

Twilight seemed almost unready to believe the response as she hesitantly detached herself from her friend.

"Yes," Rarity affirmed. "There was some upfront cost to teach him a few simple stitches, but after that he was just another hoof in the mill, so to speak. He's reliable after he's learned, as I'm sure you know. And the more reliable hooves I get under my direction, the faster the work gets done. His and Spike's support are big part of why I'll be finished early."

She paused, juggling a less certain comment in her head. But she decided to let it out cautiously.

"He's always seemed very eager to offer his support. And not in the same way Spike is. He's almost deferring, even. Though I don't get the impression that he enjoys the delicate trade of dressmaking."

The air quieted, and Rarity tried to read the other unicorn's uncertain and evershifting reaction.

Applejack eventually stepped forwards and patted Twilight calmly, telling her, "There, ya see, sugar cube? Some things work out just fine. The rest ain't so much trouble. Just a bump in the road, is all."

Releasing a tense breath, Twilight bowed her head and decided, "Yeah... yeah. I think... I've just been letting myself get carried away. Been letting myself get... overly worried about things just because they aren't perfect, or the way that I imagined them to be."

She breathed deeply again, trying to let the worries go.

"We're all friends. We can support each other and take refuge in each other. We do the little things that we should to help out each other out, and friendship will guide us the rest of the way and make everything turn out alright in the end."

Rarity wasn't so interested in the specifics of whatever her friends were referencing; not while Twilight still seemed so rattled.

"Are you sure you're alright, dear?" she asked. "You look like you could use a vacation. Maybe – after my own long labors are finally complete and I get these dresses out the door – we can take a little time to do something relaxing together?"

The invitation lit a spark inside of the unbalanced pony. Twilight's head picked up.

"Yes," she mumbled before she perked her body up completely and continued in a full voice, "It's been a LONG autumn. Everypony could use some time away. To have the space to... rest and restore themselves. To have the time to... help straighten everything out with each other! To clear away the distractions and focus on fixing things up! A retreat for everypony to come together and come out stronger!"

The other two ponies looked at each other, sharing their ignorance over whatever had injected so much pep into their now noisy friend.

Twilight whirled around and stood boldly before her fellows. Shining in her eyes and feeling more certain of her future, she said, "We need to gather everypony together sometime soon; I have something SPECIAL to announce!"

Comments

[Pon3]

Felt a little sorry for the Crusaders during James' rant; but I do agree with him that they needed to at least try and finish up with the rest of the ponies that they scheduled time with. Humans can become a sorta Jack of all trades if they put their minds to it and actually try. I can feel for the crusaders on being down but really they are going about it all wrong. Cutie marks in my mind manifest when the pony really feels they have found something they want to do and improve on for the rest of their lives.

I still hope they do an episode either in season 5 or 6 where one of them actually succeeds in getting a cutie mark. Would make a wonderful episode where a friendship could be tested by one of your friends getting something that you are still trying to get.

[Zurock]

5281722
Considering the show's creative choice to occasionally change the status quo I'm actually surprised it hasn't happened already.

[KvAT]

If James had a cutie mark it will be a...
1.---
2.---
3.---
...list. He's just that good at following instructions.